"No, child, no," he said; "I am as dead as Richard Marlow, and I shall not come to life again. What purpose would it serve? It would only cause a scandal, and the papers would be full of the story. I have no wish to be a nine days' wonder."
"But, father, what will you do?--where will you live?"
"Oh," said he, with a smile, "I dare say you will carry out the terms of the will and let me have that two thousand a year. I shall take my departure from Mrs. Marry's as the Quiet Gentleman, and appear in London as Herbert Beauchamp. You can join me there, and we can go on our travels."
"But what about me?" cried poor Sophy, who had found her adopted father only to lose him again.
"You shall marry Alan."
"But I want you to be at the wedding, father."
"I shall be at the wedding, child, and I shall give you away."
Alan looked at him in surprise.
"Then you will be recognized, and the whole story will come out."
"So it would if you were married here," answered Beauchamp composedly. "But the wedding must take place in London. Can't you see, Alan, that Sophy must be married to you under her true name--Marie Lestrange?"