THE CONFESSIONAL
"WAITY, I know what it is; you have found out about me! Who has been wicked enough to tell you before I could do so--tell me, who?"
"Oh, Patty, Patty!" cried Waitstill, who could no longer hold back her tears. "How could you deceive me so? How could you shut me out of your heart and keep a secret like this from me, who have tried to be mother and sister in one to you ever since the day you were born? God has sent me much to bear, but nothing so bitter as this--to have my sister take the greatest step of her life without my knowledge or counsel!"
"Stop, dear, stop, and let me tell you!"
"All is told, and not by you as it should have been. We've never had anything separate from each other in all our lives, and when I looked in your bureau drawer for a bit of soft cotton--it was nothing more than I have done a hundred times--you can guess now what I stumbled upon; a wedding-ring for a hand I have held ever since it was a baby's. My sister has a husband, and I am not even sure of his name!
"Waity, Waity, don't take it so to heart!" and Patty flung herself on her knees beside Waitstill's chair. "Not till you hear everything! When I tell you all, you will dry your eyes and smile and be happy about me, and you will know that in the whole world there is no one else in my love or my life but you and my--my husband."
"Who is the husband?" asked Waitstill dryly, as she wiped her eyes and leaned her elbow on the table.
"Who could it be but Mark? Has there ever been any one but Mark?"
"I should have said that there were several, in these past few months."
Waitstill's tone showed clearly that she was still grieved and hurt beyond her power to conceal.
"I have never thought of marrying any one but Mark, and not even of marrying him till a little while ago," said Patty. "Now do not draw away from me and look out of the window as if we were not sisters, or you will break my heart. Turn your eyes to mine and believe in me, Waity, while I tell you everything, as I have so longed to do all these nights and days. Mark and I have loved each other for a long, long time. It was only play at first, but we were young and foolish and did not understand what was really happening between us."
"You are both of you only a few months older than when you were 'young and foolish,'" objected Waitstill.
"Yes, we are--years and years! Five weeks ago I promised Mark that I would marry him; but how was I ever to keep my word publicly? You have noticed how insultingly father treats him of late, passing him by without a word when he meets him in the street? You remember, too, that he has never gone to Lawyer Wilson for advice, or put any business in his hands since spring?"
"The Wilsons are among father's aversions, that is all you can say; it is no use to try and explain them or rebel against them,"
Waitstill answered wearily.
"That is all very well, and might be borne like many another cross; but I wanted to marry this particular 'aversion,"' argued Patty. Would you have helped me to marry Mark secretly if I had confided in you?"
"Never in the world--never!"
"I knew it," exclaimed Patty triumphantly. "We both said so! And what was Mark to do? He was more than willing to come up here and ask for me like a man, but he knew that he would be ordered off the premises as if he were a thief. That would have angered Mr. a nd Mrs. Wilson, and made matters worse. We talked and talked until we were hoarse; we thought and thought until we nearly had brain fever from thinking, but there seemed to be no way but to take the bull by the horns."
"You are both so young, you could well have bided awhile."
"We could have bided until we were gray, nothing would have changed father; and just lately I couldn't make Mark bide," c onfessed Patty ingenuously. "He has been in a rage about father's treatment of you and me. He knows we haven't the right food to eat, nothing fit to wear, and not an hour of peace or freedom. He has even heard the men at the store say that our very lives might be in danger if we crossed father's will, or angered him beyond a certain point. You can't blame a man who loves a girl, if he wants to take her away from such a wretched life. His love would be good for nothing if he did not long to rescue her!"
"I would never have left you behind to bear your slavery alone, while I slipped away to happiness and comfort--not for any man alive would I I have done it!" This speech, so unlike Waitstill in its ungenerous reproach, was repented of as soon as it left her tongue. "Oh, I did not mean that, my darling!" she cried. "I w ould have welcomed any change for you, and thanked God for it, if only it could have come honorably and aboveboard."
"But, don't you see, Waity, how my marriage helps everything?
That is what makes me happiest; that now I shall have a home and it can be yours. Father has plenty of money and can get a housekeeper. He is only sixty-five, and as hale and hearty as a man can be. You have served your time, and surely you need not be his drudge for the rest of your life. Mark and I thought you would spend half the year with us."
Waitstill waived this point as too impossible for discussion.
"When and where were you married, Patty?" she asked.
