“Gracious, yes.”
So Miss Elsworth had settled up her affairs at Roxbury, giving the contents of the old house to Mrs. Morris, and after seeing her happily married to the deacon, she bade good bye to her friends there, who parted from her with tearful eyes and repeated requests that she would visit them as often as possible.
She returned to the city, where she began her work with renewed energy. She had sent a note to Scott, saying she would be there on the evening of the last day of October, and now the time had arrived when she was to meet him as she told him she would, in her true character, and make a full confession of the deception she had practiced. She went wrapped in a cloak which covered her entire form, her face being covered by a thick veil. At her request she was shown to Scott’s room, where he awaited her. A look of surprise passed over his face as he noticed her strange attire.
“I promised,” she said, throwing aside her veil, “to come to you in my true character.”
Scott bowed and stepped forward to assist her in removing her wraps. He took the cloak from her shoulders, and there stood before him, a beautiful picture of gypsy loveliness. Her dark, full skirt of rich purple velvet scarcely reached the top of her purple velvet boots, and was elaborately embroidered with gold. Her close fitting bodice revealed to perfection her full, round form, and the large flowing sleeves, with their gold colored satin linings, revealed at every turn the beautifully moulded arms. Beads of every conceivable size and color hung around her 314 neck, and fastened back the raven locks of hair that fell like a cloud below her waist.
“Miss Elsworth,” Scott said, as soon as he had requested her to be seated. “I am surprised to see you in this dress. What does it all mean?”
“I knew you would be, and that is why I would not accept the offer you made me—the generous offer of your love, and when I have told you my story you will thank heaven that I did not.”
Scott was seated a short distance from her, looking steadily into her face.
“I shall not ask your pardon, for I have done no intentional wrong, only I ask that you do not censure me too severely for the deception which I have practiced. I am not Miss Elsworth, the authoress, as you suppose.”