"Would you go away from Father in that case?" "Would I not?" "I should go with you, of course." "That stands to reason." "How do you know, Aunt? I mean, about Lady Cramer?" "I had a sure word. I do not doubt it." "Did my father tell you?" "No. It is a new thing yet; only a mustard seed now, but it will grow to a great tree. It might have happened yesterday." "Longer ago than that, Aunt, at least on Lady Cramer's side. When I was staying at the Hall she was cross because he did not come, and she wanted to send for him, but Richard would not let her." "Why then?" "Because he said the company they had would be an offense to the Minister, and the Minister would be unwelcome to the other guests. I must write and tell Richard your suspicion. It may affect his prospects." "No doubt it will, but, if he could marry you at once, it might prevent the other marriage." "I see not how nor why." Then Mrs. Caird went pitilessly over the sensation the double marriage would make not only socially, but in the Church of the Disciples. She put into the mouths of its elders, deacons and members the foolish jibes and jokes they would be sure to make. The riddling and laughter and comedy sure to flow from the situation were vividly present to her own imagination, and she spared Marion none of the scorn and indignation they would evoke. "Just think, Marion," she continued, "of your father having to thole all this vulgar tomfoolery--he, that never sees a flash of humor, however broad and plain it may be. Some men would just laugh, and let the jokes go by, but not so your father. They would be words in earnest to him, and every word would be a whip lash. He would fret and fume and worry himself into a brain fever, or he would fall into one of his miraculous passions with some laughing fool, and there would be tragedy and ruin to follow."