"Moonstruck mania! That is what your mad husband driven mad by you—attempted on a smaller scale, and failed."
"That is why I wish to do this. I wish to follow in his footsteps It is the best thing I can do to honor his memory."
"But he was murdered for his pains."
Cora shuddered and covered her face with her hands for a space; then she answered, slowly:
"There may be many failures; but there will never be any success unless the failures are made stepping stones to final victory."
"Fudge! See here, mistress! No doubt you suffer a good many stings of conscience for having driven the best man that ever lived—except, hem! well—to his death! But you need not on that account expatriate yourself from civilization, to go out to try to teach those red devils who murdered your husband and burned his hut, and who will probably murder you and burn your school house! You have been a false woman and a miserable sinner, Cora Rothsay! And you have deserved to suffer and you have suffered, there is no doubt about that! But you have repented, and may be pardoned. You need not immolate yourself at your age. You are a mere girl. You will get over your morbid grief. You may marry again."
Cora slowly, sadly, silently shook her head.
"Oh, yes; you will."
"No, no; no, dear grandpa. I will bear my dear, lost husband's name to the end of my life, and it shall be inscribed on my tomb. Ah! would to Heaven that at the last, I might lay my ashes beside his," she moaned.
"Now don't be a confounded fool, Cora Rothsay! To be sure, all women are fools! But, then, a girl with a drop of my blood in her veins should not be such a consummate idiot as you are showing yourself to be. You shall not go out with Sylvan to that savage frontier. It is no place for a woman, particularly for an unmarried woman. You would come to a bad end. I shall speak to Sylvan. I shall forbid him to take you there," said the old autocrat.