"She was less clever than wicked," I said quickly. "Does your father tell you that in the letter, Gertrude?"
"Yes," she said, with a heavy sigh. "He heard from his lawyers, to whom I gave notice that I was to marry you, Cyrus, and he writes," she shivered, "to send me his blessing."
"Oh, Lord!" This was from Cannington, who apologized.
"You need not make excuses to me," said Gertrude, rather bitterly, "for indeed, as you do, Lord Cannington I wonder at the man. He robbed me of my fortune; he allowed me to get into trouble; he scarcely gave me enough to live on. Yet all the time," her voice rose indignantly, "he was using my money as Wentworth Marr. What do you think of such a man?"
Cannington's fist clenched itself, and I bit my lip to prevent an oath. If Monk had been there, I fear he would have had a sorry time between us. And Gertrude, whose affections had been cast aside by her tricky father, was an indignant as we were. "Then the Australian cousin----" I began.
She cut me short. "There never was any Australian cousin, nor any legal change of name. You can read here what he says," and she passed me the letter.
I read that amazing document, which revealed the depths of Walter Monk's heart. He did not appear to be ashamed of himself, but confessed that he had found the diamonds, and had lived on the sale of them, with a most appalling jocularity. He seemed to exult in his cleverness, and declared that he had done his daughter no wrong, since the money coming from the sale of the jewels rightfully belonged to him.
Then came another odd trait in the man's character. He still, he said, had much of the fifty thousand pounds in his possession and therefore did not wish to keep the income left by Gabriel. "If my brother," wrote Mr. Monk, "had given me the diamonds, and you the income, all would have been well and I should not have been forced to stoop to concealment which my soul abhors."
"Good Lord!" muttered Cannington again, "what a man!"
Therefore, as I continued to read, Mr. Monk had made a gift of deed to his dear daughter of the house and grounds, and also of the five hundred a year. He never intended to return to England, he said, as he had an opportunity of marrying the daughter of a wealthy Chicago merchant. He ended his letter--and a remarkable human document it was--by wishing Gertrude and myself all happiness, and bidding the girl remember how kindly her father had behaved in thus settling her for life. Finally, in a postscript, he asked his darling child to remember him in her prayers.