passionately.

"Matt!"

"It isn't a thing I should urge him to do. He may not have the strength
for it. But if he had, it would be the best thing he could do, and I
should be glad to stand by him!"

"And drag us all through the mire? Surely, my son, whatever you feel
about your mother and sister, you can't wish your poor father to suffer
anything more on that wretch's account?"

"Wish? No. And heaven knows how deeply anxious I am about the effect my
engagement may have on father. I'm afraid it will embarrass
him--compromise him, even--"

"As to that, I can't say," said Mrs. Hilary. "You and he ought to know
best. One thing is certain. There won't be any opposition on his part or
mine, my son, that you won't see yourself is reasonable--"

"Oh, I am sure of that, mother! And I can't tell you how deeply I
feel--"

"Your father appreciates Suzette as fully as I do; but I don't believe
he could stand any more Quixotism from you, Matt, and if you intend to
make your marriage a preliminary to getting your father-in-law into
State's prison, you may be very sure your father won't approve of your
marriage."

Matt laughed at the humor of the proposition, which his mother did not
perceive so keenly.

"I don't intend that, exactly."

"And I'm satisfied, as it is, he won't be easy about it till the thing
is hushed up, or dies out of itself, if it's let alone."

"But father can't let it alone!" said Matt. "It's his duty to follow it
up at every opportunity. I don't want you to deceive yourself about the
matter. I want you to understand just how it will be. I have tried to
face it squarely, and I know how it looks. I shall try to make Suzette
see it as I do, and I'm sure she will. I don't think her father is
guiltier than a great many other people who haven't been found out. But
he has been found out, and he ought, for the sake of the community, to
be willing to bear the penalty the law inflicts. That is his only hope,
his salvation, his duty. Father's duty is to make him bear it whether
he's willing or not. It's a much more odious duty--"

"I don't understand you, Matt, saying your father's part is more odious
than a self-confessed defaulter's."

"No, I don't say--"

"Then I think you'd better go to your father, and reconcile your duty
with his, if you can. I wash my hands of the affair. It seems to me,
though, that you've quite lost your head. The world will look very
differently, I can assure you, at a woman whose