It pained Lucy to see Mike eating so sparely. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. In any event, I brought her to the convent and we had her locked up separately, and told ’em both they’d be taken into custody as soon as Valade was fit to go. To-night all London believes that he was your husband.
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