"Mr. Soudin had, in the meantime, returned in a state of the greatest despondency, and as soon as the news of his daughter's recovery had relieved my mind of an anxiety, which had made it impossible for me to think of other matters, I had a long talk with him.
"His pride and reserve were broken, and I was relieved to find that he intended to make a full confession of his present monetary difficulties. In Liverpool his worst fears were realized. Not only had he seen Vera's signature, but the registrar had told him that as far as it was possible to judge, his daughter acted without the slightest constraint, and had seemed perfectly reasonable and collected. 'She had given her age as twenty-one, on oath, and had answered all his questions rationally. A solicitor, when consulted, had given Mr. Soudin little hope of the marriage being annulled, and had warned him that while the action would probably lead to no good, it might possibly end in his daughter and son-in-law being arrested for perjury. If, however, he continued, she possessed means of her own, it might be wise to make an application to have this money settled upon her.
"'Money!' cried Mr. Soudin, after repeating the lawyer's words, 'it is little use troubling about that. Not only has she not a penny, but I may as well tell you at once she never will have. I am ruined!' and saying this he broke down, burying his face in his hands.
"'I knew this,' I replied, 'some time ago. You might as well have shown sufficient confidence in me to mention it before; knowing that I should, for your child's sake, have been only too glad to help you. But I suppose it seemed safer to let the marriage take place first.'
"'It's all very well,' he gasped, still shaken with the sobs which he could not suppress, 'for you to talk in that way now that the marriage is impossible, and you are free to leave us all in our misery! Generosity, I have found, is only to be trusted when the personal interest of the giver is securely tied up with that of the recipient.'
"I felt inclined to retort that he, in common with most men, judged others from the standpoint which he had adopted for personal usage, but the abject misery of the man, and the fact that he was the father of Vera, restrained me, and I said--
"'It is useless to talk of the past, which is irrevocable. The question to decide is what can be done in the future.'
"'The workhouse is open,' he muttered, 'and I can hardly see how the matter can interest you. Vancome is a beggar--we are all beggars. A curse has come upon us since you first entered the house, and I sometimes think that you brought it. You seem to possess some damnable power which I neither understand nor wish any longer to experience. It will be a relief to know that you have left the house.'
"'I feel sure you will later on regret such an accusation,' I answered, 'considering that you bought your bank shares before you ever saw me, and that the bank has been insolvent for years. Moreover, as you know, I did all in my power to prevent your daughter from marrying Lord Vancome. I have, however, a proposition to make. It seems quite clear that I cannot marry Vera, but there is no reason why I should not be able to help her. She is now Lady Vancome, and though her husband is penniless, the property which he once owned is in my hands, and will before long be legally transferred to me. I have thought the matter carefully over, and decided on certain conditions to settle these estates upon your daughter for life. The income which she will derive from them will be sufficient not only to enable her to keep up Vancome's late home, but also to live there very comfortably.'
"My companion was staring at me in blank amazement, and at last he said--'But to be candid, what are you to gain by this sacrifice? You can hardly expect me to believe that you intend to hand over property worth £100,000 for the benefit of a man you hate.'