“She said that now disgrace had fallen on the family I might think myself very fortunate in obtaining such an offer.”
Chebron was silent. He knew that his mother had never shown any earnest love either for Mysa or himself, that her thoughts were entirely devoted to dress and entertainments, and that any love she had to give had been bestowed upon his brother.
“I fear it is true, Mysa.”
“But I will never marry Plexo!” Mysa exclaimed passionately. “My father always said I should never marry a man I disliked.”
“You will never marry Plexo, Mysa—he is dead.”
Ruth uttered an exclamation.
“He died by his own hand, Ruth—that is, by an accident. As he fell his dagger pierced his own heart, and when Jethro went to look at him he was dead.”
“The Lord requited him for his evil,” Ruth said firmly. “All things are in his hands. As I did not mean to slay him, I lament not over his death. Besides, he strove to take your life, and had I had a dagger in my hand I should assuredly have used it.”
“Then what is to become of me?” Mysa asked.
“You must go back to your mother, Mysa. There is naught else for you to do.”