“Mrs. McCleary, in view of all this, will you not promise me that Russell shall never again enter this house?� Mark asked with resolution.
“Oi—oh—what can Oi promise? Where is Mr. McCleary. It seems to me ye’re all afther drivin’ me crazy!� And putting her handkerchief to her face she sobbed and waved one hand despairingly.
Fortunately the hesitating, shuffling, uncertain step of Mr. McCleary was heard coming up the path, and in a few moments he entered the room.
He looked from one to the other in a helpless, bewildered manner, then turned to his wife.
“Mr. McCleary, will you try to keep Professor Russell from your house? This is all trouble of his making. He has gained possession of your daughter’s will until she is obliged to wander out upon the prairie at night if he bids her to do so. She is completely in his power, poor girl. Only careful watchfulness upon your part and the expulsion of the villain from the community can avail. Look at your child, Mr. McCleary, and see if you will permit him to destroy her!� said Mark, with feeling.
He pointed to the sobbing face of Esther, now pressed against the back of the chair, and ghastly in its grief.
The little man looked helplessly at his wife, then at his stricken child, and his head shook with agitation.
“Yes, I’ll try—I’ll try. We will, won’t we, Miranda? We’ll try to keep him away from Esther. I say, Esther, do you want him kept away?� he continued, going to her side and lifting her poor head in his arms. “My little girlie, do ye want him kept away?� he quavered.
“Yes, yes! O papa, if he had never come here!� she moaned, pressing her forehead against his breast. “Papa—papa!�
Mr. McCleary blew his nose and coughed uneasily.