"It's more than that, Walter. You've heard something somewhere
that you don't want to tell me."
Walter's color changed at once. He was a man, and therefore but
a poor dissembler. "Well, nothing very much," he admitted,
awkwardly.
Dolly, drew back like one stung; her heart beat fast. "What have
you heard?" she cried trembling; "Walter, Walter, I love you! You
must keep nothing back. Tell me NOW what it is. I can bear to
hear it."
The young man hesitated. "Only something my step-father heard from
a friend last night," he replied, floundering deeper and deeper.
"Nothing at all about you, darling. Only--well--about your
family."
Dolly's face was red as fire. A lump rose in her throat; she
started in horror. Then he had found out the Truth. He had probed
the Mystery.
"Something that makes you sorry you promised to marry me?" she
cried aloud in her despair. Heaven faded before her eyes. What
evil trick could mamma have played her?
As she stood there that moment--proud, crimson, breathless--Walter
Brydges would have married her if her father had been a tinker and
her mother a gipsy girl.
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