“In this case, Aunt Nannie, it is obvious that silence would have meant more afflictions, many more. I have thought of my sister—and of all the other girls in our family, who may be led to sacrifice by the ambitions of their relatives.” Sylvia paused a moment, so that her words might have effect.
Said the bishop’s wife: “Sylvia, we cannot undertake to save the world from the results of its sins. God has his own ways of punishing men.”
“Perhaps so, but surely God does not wish the punishment to fall upon innocent young girls. For instance, Aunt Nannie, think of your own daughters——”
“My daughters!” broke out Mrs. Chilton. And then, mastering her excitement: “At least, you will permit me to look after my own children.”
“I noticed, my dear aunt, that Lucy May turned colour when Tom Aldrich came into the room last night. Have you noticed anything?”
“Yes—what of it?”
“It means that Lucy May is falling in love with Tom.”
“Why should she not? I certainly consider him an eligible man.”
“And yet you know, Aunt Nannie, that he is one of Roger Peyton’s set. You know that he goes about town getting drunk with the gayest of them, and you let Lucy May go on and fall in love with him! You have taken no steps to find out about him—you have not warned your daughter—”
Mrs. Chilton was crimson with agitation. “Warned my daughter! Who ever heard of such a thing?”