" "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. “Turned out to be an impostor, too. ” “Impudent beggars,” Sydney growled. “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. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. ‘Come,’ she called. She’ll have to wait for dinner,” he said, uncomfortably. He then said that if she would not obey him in this course she should “never darken his doors again,” and was, indeed, frightfully abusive. The man’s passion was infectious.
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