Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/265

Rh Mrs. Donald was adamant.

"I'd love to, but it's rather a bad scandal; and a promise is a promise. My conscience would not allow me."

There was a dead silence of bitter disappointment. It grew so long that Mrs. Donald became uneasy for fear the interest in her secret was waning.

"Well, if you all promise not to breathe a word to any living soul."

There was a deep sigh of relief, and a gasping "We promise."

"You know the Allisons are Americans."

There was an impatient "We know; go on," as Mrs. Donald paused a moment to argue with her conscience.

"They came from the South, she, and her father and mother and sister, a year ago; you remember? and settled in England. I don't think I ought to tell you, any more, after all."

There was a shriek of dismay. "But you have told us nothing, and it's nearly bed-time."

Mrs. Donald looked at the clock, which ticked ominously upon the chimney shelf. She bent forward in her chair, and spoke more quickly. They were all terrified lest the hostess