But, first, take some chocolate; it's hot and piping. Now!
Who did you nurse in Bermuda? I'm going to tell him, or her, what I think
of him!"
"I--nursed--Mr. Clyde Huntter. We were in New York all the time. That is
why--I had to keep--still----"
"Mr. Clyde Huntter?" Margaret set the cup she held, down sharply. The
quick brain was alert and in action.
"Mr. Clyde Huntter?" And then Margaret Moffatt came close to Priscilla,
and looked down deep into the unfaltering eyes raised to hers.
"Mr. Clyde Huntter--is the man I am to marry!" she said in a voice from
which the girlish banter had gone forever. It was the voice of a woman in
arms to defend all she worshipped.
"Yes, I know. I was in his room the day you called. I thought I should
die. I hoped he would tell you. I was ready to stand beside you; but he
did not tell!"
"Tell--what? As God hears you, Priscilla, as you love me, and--and as I
trust you, tell me what?"
And then Priscilla had told her. At first Margaret stood, taking the
deadly blow like a Spartan woman, her grave eyes fixed upon Priscilla.
Slowly the cruel truth, and all it implied, found its way through the
armour of her nobility and faith.
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