“Wait, Peggy. I am going with you,” said her mother, going to her side.
“Augusta? Going? Where?” exclaimed her husband, aghast.
“With my daughter,” replied his wife, her head high. “I have no doubt but Paul can find a place for us tonight.”
“Mr. Fraser,” said Paul, “would you be able to give me your services tomorrow afternoon, at a marriage ceremony?”
“That I will, my boy, with all my heart,” said the minister. “And you, sir,” he continued, facing the Colonel, “it is my duty to inform you that you are acting in an unworthy and un-Christian manner.”
“Sir,” replied the Colonel haughtily, “I beg to inform you that neither my honour nor my conscience are in your keeping.”
“Come, Peggy,” said his wife. “We will get ready.”
“Augusta!” said her husband faintly. “You are not going?”
“Edgar, you are breaking the girl’s heart,” said his wife, with a break in her voice, on her face a look tender, wistful, reminiscent. “And I know what that means.”
“You know? Augusta!”