THE REDEMPTION OF ANTHONY
Mrs. Martin smiled. 'Peter, I'll leave you on guard for a bit. I've a note to write and—"
"God bless you!" said Peter fervently, and hurried her out. He drew up a chair beside the girl's couch. "Do you know what torture this last week has been to me?" he said.
"I suppose it has been hard for all of you," she replied evasively.
"But, you see, your mother and I love you the most, so we have suffered the most."
"Yes, mother couldn't let me go—this time," she mused.
"Priscilla, have you any idea how I love you?"
"Oh, Peter, I don't want you to love me! Won't you please not?"
"You don't care at all?"
"I care a great deal, Peter dear, but—"
"Don't say the 'but,' please. Do you think you ever could care? I know I'm not much, but if you cared about me, Priscilla, I've been thinking what a lot I could do with
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