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"I mean no such thing," retorted Etwald, opening the door. "All true comedies end in the meeting of lovers." "And what about me?" said David. "You forget that I am a third player. Come, Etwald, you have prophesied about Maurice; now read my fate." "I shall answer that question. Dr. Etwald," he said, loudly. "Miss Dallas shall not and can not marry you. She has promised to be my wife.".
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"Oh, I hope it happens next summer, when we're home!" she cried. "I've always been perfectly crazy to know an engaged couple and I never have—except Mr. Bingham and Miss Auborn, and they weren't so very interesting anyway." "Undoubtedly he believes that Mrs. Dallas killed Maurice," thought Jen, "and that is why he refuses to confess to me. He said that I would be the first to blame him for telling all he knew, and as he is under the delusion that Mrs. Dallas is guilty, I understand now the reason of his silence. Also he said that he would never marry Isabella; which shows that he is afraid of becoming the husband of a woman whose mother has committed a crime. Poor boy, how he must suffer; and after all I must say that I approve of his honorable silence. But!" added the major to himself, "when he knows that Mrs. Dallas is innocent and that Etwald is guilty, he will then be able to marry Isabella!" Major Jen shook it in his usual kindly manner, and moved a step toward the door of the summer-house. All at once he paused and looked back. "Why, what about David?".
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