"Who _is_ he?" demanded Mrs. Minto. "Who _is_ he?" She was desperately agitated. "Sally, I'm your mother.... Oh, you bad girl! You been hiding.... I knew you was hiding something. I knew where them fast frocks was leading you!" Sally was enjoying the scene. But she suddenly checked herself. "Ma, I'm marrying a rich man. I'm marrying Madam's son." "Madam's _son_!" "Yes." She was complacent. "Those fast frocks lead to the registry office." "Reg.... Not in church? It's.... Sally!" "What I say," cried Sally. "A rich man!" "Mr. Bertram. And what's more he loves me. And you won't have to do any more charing. Only sit here and gorge yourself on the police news, like a lady, and...." "Married!" gasped Mrs. Minto. She gave a foolish giggling laugh, and the tears ran down her cheeks. "Is it _true_, Sally?" Sally held up her left hand, brought it blazing from under the bedclothes. Mrs. Minto seized the hand, squeezed it hard, and pored over the brilliants. "Well!" she exclaimed. Then she shook her head, and wiped the tears from her cheeks. A great sobriety appeared in her expression. Anxiety was her dominating concern. "D'you love him, Sally? You ought to have told me. I ought to have seen him. He hasn't asked for you. He ought to have come and asked your mother." "Madam's ill. I told him I'd tell you. You got to give your consent, 'cause I'm so young. He's got no time to get away. I'm very fond of him, and he thinks I'm...." Sally hoisted her shoulders. She had spoken very deliberately. "You said he was soppy." Sally turned a cold eye upon her mother. "You got too good a memory," she remarked. "What I've said to you.... Well, I knew you'd worry about him, and think I was going to get into trouble, and.... Anyway, we're getting married this morning, and going for our honeymoon this afternoon." "Where you going?" "In the country. Penterby. It's on the river, near the sea. You get to the sea in no time. Ga-- Bertram-- Bert says it's lovely. Quiet, and ... you know, you can get about." "Married! I can't believe it!" "I'll show you my certificate, when I get it. Don't you believe me?" Mrs. Minto sat quite still upon the bed for a minute, her face intensely pale. She seemed unable to say anything more. Then, very slowly indeed, she recovered the power of motion, and rose wearily to her feet. She did not look at Sally, but kept her eyes away. She stood upright, and took two or three steps. But as she paused again her emotion became overwhelming, and she clutched feebly at the bedrail. With her head resting upon both thin arms she began to cry aloud--great turbulent sobs which shook her whole body. "My baby! My baby!" she wailed noisily. "Oh, what shall I do! My baby!" Sally's lips quivered. She tried to smile. Slowly she crept out of bed, and put her arms round her mother. "Sh! Sh!" she whispered. "Ma! Ma! You're making me blubber, too. You old fool! It's not a funeral!"