“But the five hundred dollars!” said Miss Bronson.
“Keep it,” said Murray. “He intended it for you, and it is little enough. I’m only sorry that the ten-thousand-dollar policy is not for you, also, but it is one of the incidental hardships that arise from an ordinarily wise provision of the law.”
The nurse’s lip quivered and the tears came to her eyes.
“I was an entire stranger to you, Mr. Murray,” she said, “but you have been very good to me when I most needed a friend. I—I don’t know how I can—”
“I have been amply repaid for all I have done,” said Murray.
“How?” she asked in surprise.
“I have had the royal satisfaction,” he answered, “of compelling an unscrupulous man and a selfish woman to do a fairly creditable thing; I have had the joy of showing my contempt for them in my very method of doing this.”
She did not quite understand, her gratitude making her blind to all else at the moment.
“And also,” added Murray to himself, when she had gone, “the great satisfaction of saving a devoted woman from the consequences of at least one of her acts of devotion. Forgery is a serious matter, regardless of the circumstances.”