John Simpson, with a pleasant sense of triumph in his heart, left his handsome dwelling to call upon Mrs. Thatcher, whom he considered now to be in his power.
He could not explain why it was that he hated the Thatchers so much, but it is generally the case that the victim is hated by the one who has injured him. Moreover, as long as Mrs. Thatcher remained in Wilton she recalled a scene in his life which he was anxious to forget.
Therefore, he desired by depriving her of her humble home to force her to leave Wilton for good.
When Mr. Simpson entered the cottage he found Mrs. Thatcher alone. Tom and his father and sister were together in an upper room.
“Well, widow, I’ve called to see you about the mortgage,” said the rich man, sinking into a rocking-chair.
At the words Mrs. Thatcher’s heart felt a thrill of happiness, for she was a widow no longer. She did not know, for it had not been revealed to her, that the man before her had tried to make her a widow, or she would not have been able to treat him with common politeness.
“Can’t you let me have more than four hundred dollars on the place, Mr. Simpson?” she asked, having been so instructed by Tom.
“No,” said the shoe manufacturer, decidedly.
“The place is worth a thousand dollars.”
“Nonsense, Mrs. Thatcher. It wouldn’t bring over six hundred.”