“I knew he would,” cried Madelaine warmly. “Mr Leslie, I am very, very glad.”
“Of course, you are; and as soon as I bring Louie back, and all is cleared, Leslie shall come and congratulate us. D’ye hear, Leslie? I’m going to marry Madelaine. Marry her and stop up in the churchyard afterwards,” he said with a grim smile full of piteous sadness.
“Uncle Luke!”
“Well, it’s right enough, my dear. At my time of life hardly worth while to make two journeys up to the churchyard. So you could leave me there and go back, and take possession of my estate.”
“Louise.”
“Ah, yes. I mustn’t forget Louise,” said the old man. “Let’s see—about Margaret. Leave her all right?”
“Yes; she is more calm now.”
“Did you question her, and get to know anything?”
“Nothing.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the old man. “Close as an oyster, or else she doesn’t know anything.”