“Why—yes,” the judge faltered. “If you’re sure—”
“What about?” Breckon demanded.
“I don’t know whether she will believe that I have told you.”
“I will try to convince her. Where shall I see her?”
“I will go and tell her you are here. I will bring her—”
Kenton passed into the adjoining room, where his wife laid hold of him, almost violently. “You did it beautifully, Rufus,” she huskily whispered, “and I was so afraid you would spoil everything. Oh, how manly you were, and how perfect he was! But now it’s my turn, and I will go and bring Ellen—You will let me, won’t you?”
“You may do anything you please, Sarah. I don’t want to have any more of this,” said the judge from the chair he had dropped into.
“Well, then, I will bring her at once,” said Mrs. Kenton, staying only in her gladness to kiss him on his gray head; he received her embrace with a superficial sultriness which did not deceive her.
Ellen came back without her mother, and as soon as she entered the room, and Breckon realized that she had come alone, he ran towards her as if to take her in his arms. But she put up her hand with extended fingers, and held him lightly off.
“Did poppa tell you?” she asked, with a certain defiance. She held her head up fiercely, and spoke steadily, but he could see the pulse beating in her pretty neck.