"Marse Elliston done gone. What did he want, honey?"
"To see Dyke," answered Nell, with a slight twinge at uttering such a monstrous falsehood.
"Marse Dyke don't come yet. 'Deed but he's full of business dese times. Marse Dyke a great man, honey."
If the old negress noticed traces of tears on the face of her young mistress, she was sharp enough to keep the discovery to herself.
In the meantime, Mr. Elliston made his way to the principal hotel in the little city and sought his room. He was a regular boarder, but, like other men of leisure, he was not regular at meals or room. Nevertheless, he paid his board promptly, and that was the desideratum with the landlord.
The man's teeth gleamed above his short, gray-streaked beard, as he sat down and meditated on the situation.
"So, I can be her friend still. Well, that is something. I don't mean to give up so. Dark clouds are gathering over your life, Nell Darrel, and when the blackest shadow of the storm bends above and howls about you, in that hour you may conclude that even an elderly gentleman like myself will DO."
Again the man's teeth gleamed and the black eyes glittered.
"I have set my heart on winning that girl. A mock marriage will do as well as anything, and such beauty and freshness will bring money in New York."
Harper Elliston remained in his room until a late lour. After the shades of evening fell he left the room and hotel with a small grip in his hand. He turned his steps in the direction of the railway station. Arrived at the depot, he purchased a ticket for St. Louis. Then he sauntered outside and stood leaning against the depot in a shaded spot.