JULIA BRIDE
"The matter is that, being ashamed of himself, as he well might, he left the country as soon as he could and has stayed away. The matter is that he's in Paris or somewhere, and that if you expect him to come home for me—!" She had already dropped, however, as at Mr. Pitman's look.
"Why, you foolish thing, Murray Brush is in New York!" It had quite brightened him up.
"He has come back—?"
"Why, sure! I saw him—when was it? Tuesday!—on the Jersey boat." Mr. Pitman rejoiced in his news. "He's your man!"
Julia too had been affected by it; it had brought, in a rich wave, her hot color back. But she gave the strangest dim smile. "He was!"
"Then get hold of him, and—if he's a gentleman—he'll prove for you, to the hilt, that he wasn't."
It lighted in her face, the kindled train of this particular sudden suggestion, a glow, a sharpness of interest, that had deepened
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