AT the threshold her bundles dropped to the floor and all color fled from her face.Before her stood her Uncle George and Sam Wright and his father.The two elderly men were glowering at her; Sam, white as his shirt and limp, was hanging his head.
"So, miss!--You've got back, eh?" cried her uncle in a tone she would not have believed could come from him.
As quickly as fear had seized her she now shook it off."Yes, Uncle," she said calmly, meeting his angry eyes without flinching.And back came that expression of resolution--of stubbornness we call it when it is the flag of opposition to _our_ will.
"What'd have become of you," demanded her uncle, "if I hadn't found out early this morning, and got after Sam here and choked the truth out of him?"Susan gazed at Sam; but he was such a pitiful figure, so mean and frightened, that she glanced quickly back to her uncle.She said:
"But he didn't know where I was."
"Don't lie to me," cried Warham."It won't do you any good, any more than his lying kept us from finding you.We came on the train and saw the Waterburys in the street and they'd seen you go into the drug store.We'd have caught you there if we'd been a few minutes sooner, but we drove, and got here in time.Now, tell me, Susan"--and his voice was cruelly harsh--"all about what's been going on between you and Sam."She gazed fearlessly and was silent.
"Speak up!" commanded Sam's father.
"Yes--and no lies," said her uncle.
"I don't know what you mean," Susan at last answered--truthfully enough, yet to gain time, too.
"You can't play that game any longer," cried Warham."You did make a fool of me, but my eyes are open.Your aunt's right about you.""Oh, Uncle George!" said the girl, a sob in her voice.
But he gazed pitilessly--gazed at the woman he was now abhorring as the treacherous, fallen, unsexed daughter of fallen Lorella.
"Speak out.Crying won't help you.What have you and this fellow been up to? You disgrace!"Susan shrank and shivered, but answered steadfastly, "That's between him and me, Uncle."Warham gave a snort of fury, turned to the elder Wright."You see, Wright," cried he."It's as my wife and I told you.Your boy's lying.We'll send the landlady out for a preacher and marry them.""Hold on, George," objected Wright soothingly."I agreed to that only if there'd been something wrong.I'm not satisfied yet." He turned to Susan, said in his gruff, blunt way:
"Susan, have you been loose with my boy here?""Loose?" said Susan wonderingly.
Sam roused himself."Tell them it isn't so, Susan," he pleaded, and his voice was little better than a whine of terror."Your uncle's going to kill me and my father'll kick me out."Susan's heart grew sick as she looked at him--looked furtively, for she was ashamed to see him so abject."If you mean did I let him kiss me," she said to Mr.Wright, "why, I did.We kissed several times.But we had the right to.We were engaged."Sam turned on his father in an agony of terror."That isn't true!" he cried."I swear it isn't, father.We aren't engaged.Ionly made love to her a little, as a fellow does to lots of girls."Susan looked at him with wide, horrified eyes."Sam!" she exclaimed breathlessly."Sam!"Sam's eyes dropped, but he managed to turn his face in her direction.The situation was too serious for him; he did not dare to indulge in such vanities as manhood or manly appearance.
"That's the truth, Susan," he said sullenly."_You_ talked a lot about marrying but _I_ never thought of such a thing.""But--you said--you loved me."
"I didn't mean anything by it."
There fell a silence that was interrupted by Mr.Wright."You see there's nothing in it, Warham.I'll take my boy and go.""Not by a damn sight!" cried Warham."He's got to marry her.
Susan, did Sam promise to marry you?"
"When he got through college," replied Susan.
"I thought so! And he persuaded you to run away.""No," said Susan."He----"
"I say yes," stormed her uncle."Don't lie!""Warham! Warham!" remonstrated Mr.Wright."Don't browbeat the girl.""He begged me not to go," said Susan.
"You lying fool!" shouted her uncle.Then to Wright, "If he did ask her to stay it was because he was afraid it would all come out--just as it has.""I never promised to marry her!" whined Sam."Honest to God, father, I never did.Honest to God, Mr.Warham! You know that's so, Susan.It was you that did all the marrying talk.""Yes," she said slowly."Yes, I believe it was." She looked dazedly at the three men."I supposed he meant marriage because--" her voice faltered, but she steadied it and went on--"because we loved each other.""I knew it!" cried her uncle."You hear, Wright? She admits he betrayed her."Susan remembered the horrible part of her cousin's sex revelations."Oh, no!" she cried."I wouldn't have let him do that--even if he had wanted to.No--not even if we'd been married.""You see, Warham!" cried Mr.Wright, in triumph.
"I see a liar!" was Warham's furious answer."She's trying to defend him and make out a case for herself.""I am telling the truth," said Susan.
Warham gazed unbelievingly at her, speechless with fury.Mr.
Wright took his silk hat from the corer of the piano."I'm satisfied they're innocent," said he."So I'll take my boy and go.""Not if I know it!" retorted Warham."He's got to marry her.""But the girl says she's pure, says he never spoke of marriage, says he begged her not to run away.Be reasonable, Warham.""For a good Christian," sneered he at Wright, "you're mighty easily convinced by a flimsy lie.In your heart you know the boy has wronged her and that she's shielding him, just as----" There Warham checked himself; it would be anything but timely to remind Wright of the character of the girl's mother.
