‘Go on up to the boy, my dear. “Oh, that. “Look here,” he said, “I brought you here to make love to you. ‘I haven’t been so much entertained since I left the Army. “So your father brought you here to live in the States?” John asked. “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. Wood caught hold of Jack's leg, and dragged him off the bench. The villain has enjoyed his security too long. Happy Thanksgiving.
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