ut she cut him short almost as
severely as she--had dealt with her father.

"Yes, it does! It justifies you perfectly! And his wanting you to falsify
the whole thing afterwards, more than justifies you."

Neither of the men attempted anything in reply to her casuistry; they
both looked equally posed by it, for different reasons; and Agatha went
on as vehemently as before, addressing herself now to one and now to the
other.

"And besides, if it didn't justify you, what you have done yourself
would; and your never denying it, or trying to excuse it, makes it the
same as if you hadn't done it, as far as you are concerned; and that is
all I care for." Burnamy started, as if with the sense of having heard
something like this before, and with surprise at hearing it now; and she
flushed a little as she added tremulously, "And I should never, never
blame you for it, after that; it's only trying to wriggle out of things
which I despise, and you've never done that. And he simply had to come
back," she turned to her father, "and tell me himself just how it was.
And you said yourself, papa--or the same as said--that he had no right to
suppose I was interested in his affairs unless he--unless--And I should
never have forgiven him, if he hadn't told me then that he that he had
come back because he--felt the way he did. I consider that that
exonerated him for breaking his word, completely. If he hadn't broken his
word I should have thought he had acted very cruelly and--and strangely.
And ever since then, he has behaved so nobly, so honorably, so
delicately, that I don't believe he would ever have said anything
again--if I hadn't fairly forced him. Yes! Yes, I did!" she cried at a
movement of remonstrance from Burnamy. "And I shall always be proud of
you for it." Her father stared steadfastly at her, and he only lifted his
eyebrows, for change of expression, when she went over to where Burnamy
stood, and put her hand in his with a certain childlike impetuosity. "And
as for the rest," she declared, "everything I have is his; just as
everything of his would be mine if I had nothing. Or if he wishes to take
me without anything, then he can have me so, and I sha'n't be afraid but
we can get along somehow." She added, "I have managed without a maid,
ever since I left home, and poverty has no terrors for me!"

LXVIII.

General Triscoe submitted to defeat with the patience which soldiers
learn. He did not submit amiably; that woul