"But I lose what little fortune I have if I leave it," remonstrated the girl.
"What of that? I can give you a comfortable home, dearest. My practice is increasing, and in a few years we shall be quite opulent. Give up your father's bequest, my own, and let us begin our new life without dwelling within the shadow of a crime."
While Dora was reflecting what answer to make, the gate opened--it was never locked now--and Mr. Carver, as black as a raven and as lean as a stick, made his appearance. He saw the couple on the lawn, and walked directly towards them, with what was meant for a smile on his grim face. Indeed, he had taken a great fancy to the young couple--to Dora in particular--and they both welcomed him heartily.
"Well, my young friends," said he, when the first greetings were over, "I have come to learn your plans."
"We were just making them," said Dora with a blush. "Allen wants me to give up the Red House and live in Canterbury when we are married."
"I agree with him there, Miss Dora. The Red House is what the Scotch call uncanny. I should not like to live in it myself, with the knowledge that a brutal murder had been committed within its walls."
"I feel the same as you do," replied Dora. "All the same, if I give it up I lose my poor two hundred a year, and shall go to Allen a pauper."
"Dearest, as if that mattered! I can provide a home for you, and Mrs. Tice shall look after it."
"Be comforted, Miss Dora," said Carver, smiling. "You will not go to Allen a pauper. You are entitled to fifty thousand pounds--your father's money."
"But why, Mr. Carver? I did not find out who killed my father."