If Betty had sat devoutly under
him on Sundays, there might have been some reason in the summons.
But Betty, holding her own religious views, had only once been
inside the church--on the occasion of her wedding--and had but the
most formal acquaintance with the good man.... No, I could not
send Betty home, unexpectedly, to have her wounds mauled about by
unskilful fingers. Nothing remained but to telephone to the
hospital and put her in Mrs. Marigold's charge for the night. So
broken was my dear Betty, that she allowed herself to be carried
off without a word. ... Once before, years ago, she had behaved
with the same piteous docility; and that was when, a short-frocked
hoiden, she had fallen from an apple tree and badly hurt herself,
and Marigold had carried her into the house and Mrs. Marigold had
put her to bed. ...
In the morning I found her calm and sedate at the breakfast table.
"You've been and gone and done for both of us, Majy dear," she
remarked, pouring out tea.
"What do you mean?"
"Our reputations. What a scandal in Wellingsford!"
She looked me clearly in the eyes and smiled, and her hand did not
shake as she held my cup.
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