He thought, now the good old man will have money, fame, and distinction; his daughter, the dear little Marie, would be advanced to her rightful place among womankind, and no longer be hidden in Duke’s Lane, unknown and unsought. Unsought! Then came a feeling of jealousy at his heart. Men would seek the heart and hand of his little fiancé. Would they succeed? Would she quickly forget him, and receive with pleasure the advances of other suitors? Then, with a grim smile, he bade his heart have no fear; Marie Colchis was no more. It mattered not what she had done; she was dead to him forever. He would live in the remembrance of her childish yet womanlike love.
It was past midnight when Cobb and the President separated, each to his bed; the latter to slumber, the former to lie in a mournful remembrance of former days and former friends.
The next few days were passed by Cobb as the others had been, in the gaining of a knowledge of the world as he now found it. Much of the excitement caused by his advent had passed; much of the curiosity of mankind in his appearance among them had vanished. He settled down to a life similar to the rest. To Mollie Craft he was kind and polite, but not passionate. He still believed her the magnet toward which fate was drawing him; but he awaited the propitious moment to tell her of his belief, of his love. She was kind and sisterly to him; nothing more.
It was near the first of December that a new face, a sweet, girlish face of innocence and simplicity, came across the path of his life.
Marie Colchester had arrived at the executive mansion as the one dear friend of Mollie Craft during her school-days at Weldon. As she was presented to mamma and papa Craft, she blushed at the knowledge of the deception she was practicing; but she had promised her brother and his fiancé to obey their wishes.
A tall girl, with blonde hair, majestic form, round and plump, with eyes melting in their expression of artlessness and innocence, Marie Colchester was one who would easily conquer the heart of a susceptible man. In the parlor they met for the first time, Junius Cobb and she.
“My brother, Marie. Junius, let me make you acquainted with my dear old schoolmate, Marie Colchester. I want you to be the best of friends,” and she moved toward the piano, and listlessly tapped the ivory keys.
“Oh, I am sure we will, will we not, Mr. Cobb?” exclaimed Miss Colchester, with a winning smile. “You know everybody has heard of you, and I feel it a great honor to know one who has lived in two lives.”