Bess took her husband’s hand.
‘Do you remember, George, how we used to arrange in our old days, before the trouble came, what we would do when we had made a fortune?’
George sighed.
‘Ah! they were happy days—happy dreams. But there may be a bright future before us yet.’
Bess knew that George, in his heart of hearts, would approve what she had done, but she dared not tell him before, lest it should seem that she too was leagued with his enemies.
But when the news of Marston’s death came, she was thankful that no act of theirs had helped him to his doom. She had seen Ruth but once, and had read her goodness in her face.
The woman’s heart of George Heritage’s wife went over in sympathy to the woman whose husband might one day be torn from her arms, and she determined at least to warn her of the peril that encompassed them.
She thanked God all her life that she had done so, and she thanked God that all his trouble and his great wrongs had not crushed out all tenderness and human sympathy from the big, noble heart of George Heritage, her husband and her idol.
CHAPTER LXVII.
GERTIE’S BIBLE.
Gertie Heckett sat by the bedside of her grandfather, holding his thin, trembling hands in hers.