“Is that all?” asked the captain with falling face.
“You know it is, father. You knew it a week ago. You knew I would even go to this man and on my knees beg him to be merciful.”
Her father laughed dismally.
“In other words,” said he, “you can do nothing. I do not complain; I expected nothing, and I have not been disappointed. I was foolish to think such a thing possible; Heaven knows I have been punished for my folly.”
She tried hard to keep back the tears, and rose to go.
“Stay!” said he sternly; “I have a question to ask you. A week ago you seemed to hold a different mind to this. What has changed it?”
“No,” said she, “it was out of the question; you said so yourself.”
“I ask you,” repeated he sternly, and not heeding her protest, “what has changed it? Have you taken counsel with any one on the subject? Have you spoken to any one of this wretched business?”
“Yes; I have spoken to Mr Armstrong.”
“Exactly. I thought as much. I understand. Leave me, Rosalind.”