England -- Fiction; Mothers and daughters -- Fiction; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction; Mystery fiction
"I know well enough, Kaituna. You love him so much that you would go
and live in a cottage, on dry bread and water. This is youthful folly,
and I decline to aid you to ruin your life in such a way. Mr. Maxwell
has behaved very badly----"
"No! No!"
"I say he has," replied Pethram, with emphasis; "no gentleman would
have acted as he has done. I will write him at once, and if he seeks
an interview he shall have it, so that I can tell him to his face my
opinion of his conduct."
"Father!"
"Not another word, Kaituna. Rise from your knees, for all your tears
won't alter my decision. I won't ask you to dismiss this gentleman; I
will do it myself."
His daughter, stung by his cold irony, sprang to her feet with a cry
of anger.
"Papa! Papa! Don't do that. I love him! I want to marry him!" Then,
after a pause, stamping her foot, "I will marry him."
"Will you? I'm afraid not," replied Pethram, coldly; "you are under
age, remember."
"Oh, what shall I do! what shall I do," cried the girl, tearfully,
raising her head.
"Behave like a sensible woman, and give up this madness."
"No, I will not. I will be true to Archie!"
Pethram shook his head with a vexed air.
"My dear child, you are really very foolish. I don't wish to argue any
more on the subject."
"You are going to write to--to Mr. Maxwell?"
"At once."
"And refuse to let him marry me?"
"Exactly."
"Then," said Kaituna, pausing a moment at the door, "I swear by the
name of my mother that I will be true to him."
She was gone in a moment, and Sir Rupert, over whose face had come a
grave, worn look, laughed discordantly.
"By the name of her mother," he said with a sneer. "Ah! she little
knows what her mother was."
CHAPTER XVI.
FOREWARNED IS FOREARMED.
"'Tis ill work fighting in the dark,
Though skilled you be in use of lance;
A random thrust may stretch you sark,
Though guided but by fickle chance.
'Tis wisest, then, to fight in light,
For you can judge your foeman's skill;
And though in armour he be dight,
Your lance may find some place to kill."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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