She looked from Colonel Parsons to his wife, who stared at her in dismay.
"Don't be angry with me," she said; "I couldn't talk like this to anyone else, but I know you love me. I look upon you already as my father and mother. I don't want to be unkind to mamma, but I couldn't talk of it to her; she would only sneer at me. And I'm afraid it's making me rather unhappy."
"Of course, we want you to treat us as your real parents, Mary. We both love you as we love Jamie. We have always looked upon you as our daughter."
"You're so good to me!"
"Has your mother said anything to annoy you?"
Mary faltered.
"Last night, when he went away, she said she didn't think he was devoted to me."
"Oh, I knew it was your mother who'd put this in your head! She has always been jealous of you. I suppose she thinks he's in love with her."
"Mrs. Parsons!" cried Mary, in a tone of entreaty.
"I know you can't bear anything said against your mother, and it's wicked of me to vex you; but she has no right to suggest such things."