When he once was in the open air his thoughts immediately went to Helen. He would change his clothes, and then satisfy himself how his sweetheart was getting along.
Helen Standish was growing impatient, and her twenty-first birthday was fast crowding upon her—that time when she would be her own mistress.
This thought often haunted both Benson and Nathans. The Jew had tormented Benson with his fears and worryings.
“You’ve got to marry that girl or put her out of the way,” commanded the Jew, and Benson knew this to be a fact, for was he not involved to such an amount that he could not stand under the strain much longer?
So this evening he sent for his ward, and said to her:
“My dear Helen, I am going to ask you a question. Will you marry me? I love you, and I beg you to be my wife.”
The girl rose to her feet. Her eyes narrowed into just a squint, for she seemed to be measuring his strength against hers. There was something so strong in her feelings to-night. Was she not twenty-one to-morrow and mistress of her own fortune? And did it not mean freedom for her Tom?
“I thank you, my cousin,” said she, bowing low, “but I will have to decline the honor. What is more, to-morrow I will want my home to myself, as I am thinking of making several changes among the servants. And then, my lawyer says that you should hand me a statement of all the moneys spent since my grandfather died, and then please turn my property over to me.”