“And what is it, my child?” asks the General.
“It is because I have seen him again, papa!” she says.
The other two women turned pale, and Theo's heart too begins to palpitate, and her cheek to whiten, as she continues to look in her father's scared face.
“It was not wrong to see him,” she continues, more quickly; “it would have been wrong not to tell you.”
“Great God!” groans the father, drawing his hand back, and with such a dreadful grief in his countenance, that Hetty runs to her almost swooning sister, clasps her to her heart, and cries out, rapidly, “Theo knew nothing of it, sir! It was my doing—it was all my doing!”
Theo lies on her sister's neck, and kisses it twenty, fifty times.
“Women, women! are you playing with my honour?” cries the father, bursting out with a fierce exclamation.
Aunt Lambert sobs, wildly, “Martin! Martin! Don't say a word to her!” again calls out Hetty, and falls back herself staggering towards the wall, for Theo has fainted on her shoulder.
I was taking my breakfast next morning, with what appetite I might, when my door opens, and my faithful black announces, “General Lambert.” At once I saw, by the General's face, that the yesterday's transaction was known to him. “Your accomplices did not confess,” the General said, as soon as my servant had left us, “but sided with you against their father—a proof how desirable clandestine meetings are. It was from Theo herself I heard that she had seen you.”
“Accomplices, sir!” I said (perhaps not unwilling to turn the conversation from the real point at issue). “You know how fondly and dutifully your young people regard their father. If they side against you in this instance, it must be because justice is against you. A man like you is not going to set up sic volo sic jubeo as the sole law in his family!”