Chapter 2

“I am not likely to forget it,” cried Daphne rebelliously, “when you
fling it in my face, morning, noon, and night. I never was consulted in
the matter. You and Neil arranged it all, clown that he is! I’m sick of
the sound of his name.”

Mrs. North followed Daphne into the shabby little sitting room.

“You haven’t any business to talk that way, Daphne. What’s got into you?
You’ll lose Neil if you’re not careful. He won’t put up with
everything.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want him. I never did, but you were always so set
on it. And I won’t be handed over to him like a chattel. So there,
mother!”

“Daphne North, you’ve just clean taken leave of your senses. That
smirking fool of a schoolmaster has bewitched you, I do believe. I’m
tired of such nonsense. You are going to be Neil’s wife, so for pity’s
sake try and behave yourself properly.”

“Mother, why are you so set on my marrying Neil?” asked Daphne
petulantly. She had asked the question often before, but had never
received any satisfactory answer. She did not expect one now; but Mrs.
North sat down in her rocking chair and said:

“Because I want you to right the wrong I did his father. I am going to
tell you the story, Daphne, and perhaps it will serve as a warning to
you. When I was a girl, not a great deal older than you are—and pretty,
too, though there ain’t any of that left now—Alec Burnham asked me to
marry him. He was a young widower. His wife had died a year after they
were married, and Neil was five years old. Alec was a good man and
well-to-do, and I was proud to say yes. That was in the spring. We were
to be married in the fall. We kept it a secret; nobody but my old aunt
knew anything about it.

“Then your father came to the place, clerking in Gresham’s store. He was
a handsome ne’er-do-well—that’s what he was. He began to court me, and
I got infatuated with him and threw Alec over. Will North and I were
married in the fall, and Alec Burnham never lifted his head after that.
Aunt Mary told me I’d be sorry for it, and I was. If you knew what my
life was with your father it would make you stop and think. And the way
I treated Alec has weighed on my conscience ever since. When Neil began
to come after you I was heart-glad, for I saw a way to right the old
wrong. And that is why you must marry Neil. And that’s why I’ve slaved
to keep you at school and give you a year at Thrasher to make you fitter
to be his wife.”

“You love Neil better than you do me,” cried Daphne.

“No, I don’t. But I do love him as if he was my own. I’m doing the best
I can for you. Now, mind what I’ve said. If you come sauntering home
with that worthless fellow again you’ll stop going to school, academy or
no academy. If he comes here to see you I’ll shut the door in his face.”

Daphne knew her mother meant every word. She ran up to her own little
room under the eaves and flung herself on her bed, crying passionately.
Her mother was unjust and prejudiced, she thought, bitterly. Some
jealous tongues had been tampering with her. Perhaps Neil had said
something. But she did not care; she would not give up Francis.

“I love him and he loves me,” she sobbed into her pillow, “and nobody
shall come between us. How can mother say such things of him?”

Daphne’s tears did not last long; she was soon smiling again over her
romantic visions. He had called her his “princess.” Neil would never
have thought of anything like that or have been able to say it
gracefully if he had.

That night she refused to let Neil drive her from prayer meeting, and
she walked home with Francis Elliott. She told him all her mother had
said, feeling no throb of disloyalty in her shallow soul because of it.

When Mrs. North heard of this she made Daphne stay home from school, and
accompanied her everywhere she went. Daphne tossed her head and
submitted outwardly. In secret she continued to meet Francis Elliott.
There were stolen walks and smuggled letters. The wilful girl was
determined to go her own wilful way. The day after school closed West
Albion was electrified to hear that Daphne North had run away with
Francis Elliott.

When Neil Burnham heard it he went straight to the North cottage, his
honest heart aching within him. Mrs. North met him, dry-eyed and stern
lipped.

“Is this true about Daphne?” Neil asked huskily, his voice pale under
its tan.

“Yes.” The woman’s voice was hard with anger. “She wasn’t in her room
this morning. She left a letter. If you want to see it, it’s there on
the clock shelf.”

Neil took and read Daphne’s poor, foolish, high-flown little note,
written in the style of eloping heroines in sensational novels. She was
going away to be married to the only man she could ever love, she wrote.
She implored her mother to forgive her, and to ask Neil to forget and
forgive her.

“What are you going to do?” he asked dully. He had loved Daphne North
with his whole heart, and this blow left him feeling dazed for the time
being, hurt and bruised in every fibre of his manhood.

“Nothing. She has chosen to go her own way, and she may tread it to the
end without any further let or hindrance from me.”

“She is your daughter,” began Neil, but Mrs. North interrupted him.

“I have no daughter now. She has cut herself adrift from me. You need
never mention her name to me again.”

“You are a cruel, unfeeling woman,” cried Neil in an unwonted burst of
anger.

“It becomes you to stand up for her,” said Mrs. North bitterly. “She has
made you a laughing stock, and yet you take her part.”

Neil stood up very straight, his honest eyes gazing steadily into Mrs.
North’s hard ones.

“Who should take her part, if not I, when her own mother fails her?” he
asked simply. “As for making me a laughing stock, nobody can do that but
myself. If I had known that Daphne did not love me I would have freed
her willingly. I love her still, and I would do anything in my power to
serve her. Maybe she has done wrong in this matter, but that is not for
me to judge.”

Neil left the unrelenting mother and went to Woodbury, the nearest town.
Here he found that Daphne and Francis Elliott had been married at the
house of the Methodist minister. With this assurance Neil went back to
stem the tide of gossip and scandal in West Albion. It was beyond his
power, but at least he stood rock firm in the current. Nobody dared cast
a word at Daphne in his presence, after Scoville Parker had been knocked
down for a sneer.

In due time another letter came from Daphne to her mother. She and her
husband had gone out west. He had obtained a position in a business
establishment in a western city. She was very happy. Would not her
mother forgive her and write to her?