"It's just as I said, Macrorie," said he. "She promised to meet me at
the time I mentioned. And she was there. And I was not. And now she'll
consider me a scoundrel."

In a few moments Jack opened out the crushed note, and read it again.

"After all," said he, "she isn't so awfully affectionate."

"Affectionate!"

"No--she seems afraid, and talks a great deal too much of her father,
and of her anguish of soul--yes, that's her expression--her anguish of
soul in sacrificing him to me. By Jove!--sacrifice! Think of that! And
she says she only comes because I reproach her with being the cause of
grief--heavens and earth! and she says that she doesn't expect any
happiness, but only remorse. By Jove! See here, Macrorie--did you ever
in your life imagine that a woman, who loved a fellow well enough to
make a runaway match with him, could write him in such a way? Why, hang
it! she might have known that, before our honeymoon was over, that
confounded old Irish scoundrel of a father of hers would have been
after us, insisting on doing the heavy father of the comedy, and giving
us his blessing in the strongest of brogues. And, what's more, he'd
have been borrowing money of me, the beggar! Borrowing money! of _me_
--_me_--without a penny myself and head over heels in debt. Confound
his impudence!"

And Jack, who had begun this with remorse about Marion, ended with this
burst of indignation at Marion's father, consequent upon a purely
imaginary but very vivid scene, in which the latter was supposed to be
extorting money from him. And he looked at me with a face that craved
sympathy for such unmerited wrongs, and showed still more plainly the
baby that was in him.

I made no answer. His quotations from Marion's letter showed me plainly
how she had been moved, and what a struggle of soul this resolve had
cost her. Now I could understand the full meaning of that sombre face
which I had seen in O'Halloran's parlor, and also could see why it was
that she had absented herself on that last evening. Did this letter
change my sentiments about her? How could it, after what I already
knew? It only elevated her, for it showed that at such a time her soul
was racked and torn by the claims of filial duty. Under her
hallucination, and under the glamour which Jack had thrown over her,
she had done a deep wrong--but I alone knew how fearful was her
disenchantment, and how keen was the mental anguish that followed.

"She'll never forgive me