"But the train must be late—I'll wait up myself for her."
"You might burn your candle to the snuff—she's not for coming, I tell you."
"But she promised me—faithfully promised me...."
"Get to bed, ma'am. I wonder you're not thinking shame, making excuses for the bad doings of your by-child, and you a Methodist."
The woman was on the verge of tears.
"Shame enough it is, Dan Collister, when a mother has to shut her heart to her own child if she's not to show disrespect to her husband."
In the intimacy of the bedroom Dan threw off all disguise. Winding his silver-lever watch and hanging it with its Albert on a hook in the bed-post, and then sitting on the side of the bed to undress, he almost crowed over his prospects. That son of the Speaker would have to pay for his whistle this time! Baldromma would be his by heirship, and a father had a right to damages for the loss of the services of his daughter.
"There'll be no more rent going paying by me, I'm thinking," said Dan.
So that was his scheme! Mrs. Collister stood long in her cotton nightdress, fumbling with the strings of her night-cap, and wondering if she could ever lie down with the man again.
"Are you never for putting out that candle and coming to bed, woman?"