The Beggar Man turned very pale.
"I have heard something of this from your friend Peg," he said grimly. "Possibly it is true that through some business transaction I got the better of your father. But anyway it must have been years ago, and I never knew him personally. If they say all is fair in love and war, it's fair in business, too. He would have got the better of me if he had been able to do so, no doubt. Anyway, I mean to thrash the matter to the bottom, and let you know the exact truth, even if it goes against me to tell you. I may not be proud of everything that has happened in my life, but I'm not going to lie about it anyway.... Faith, stop crying!" His voice was harsh now, and Faith's tears dried as if by magic.
She looked so forlorn, so very young, and a sudden revulsion of feeling swept through the man's heart. He was already bitterly disappointed with his marriage. He had had such wonderful schemes for moulding his wife to his own ideas, and now he knew that he had been a fool to ever hope anything from such a gamble! But he was a fighter, and he had no intention of acknowledging defeat. He held out his hand to her.
"Come, Faith, be friends with me! You used to like me, you know," he added, with a faint smile. "And it's less than a month ago. A short time, surely."
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, and her pretty voice sounded like steel when she spoke.
"I didn't know then that you were Ralph Scammel!—I didn't know then—that you killed my father."
It was a piteous exaggeration of the truth, and Forrester flushed to the roots of his hair, but he kept his temper admirably. He even managed a laugh as he turned to the door.
"Well, I'm not arguing with you now about it," he said hardily. "I'll say good-night."
When he had gone, Peg came in to Faith, and the younger girl broke down once more into pitiable weeping.
"He says he is sending the twins away; he says that I must go and live with him. You wouldn't, would you, Peg? You hate him, don't you?"