“You don’t mean it?” Mrs. Lenoir gasped, choking back the tears.
“Certainly. You can at once return to your home. I’ll take another house, and invest your money for you in good Northern securities.”
The mother burst into sobs, unable to speak, while Marion threw her arms impulsively around the old man’s neck and kissed him.
His cold eyes were warmed with the first tear they had shed in years.
He moved the next day to the Ross estate, which he rented, had Sam brought back to the home of his childhood in charge of a good-natured white attendant, and installed in one of the little cottages on the lawn. He ordered Lynch to arrest the keeper of the poor, and hold him on a charge of assault with intent to kill, awaiting the action of the Grand Jury. The Lieutenant-Governor received this order with sullen anger—yet he saw to its execution. He was not quite ready for a break with the man who had made him.
Astonished at his new humour, Phil and Elsie hastened to confess to him their love affairs and ask his approval of their choice. His reply was cautious, yet he did not refuse his consent. He advised them to wait a few months, allow him time to know the young people, and get his bearings on the conditions of Southern society. His mood of tenderness was a startling revelation to them of the depth and intensity of his love.
When Mrs. Lenoir returned with Marion to her vine-clad home, she spent the first day of perfect joy since the death of her lover husband. The deed had not yet been made of the transfer of the farm, but it was only a question of legal formality. She was to receive the money in the form of interest-bearing securities and deliver the title on the following morning.
Arm in arm, mother and daughter visited again each hallowed spot, with the sweet sense of ownership. The place was in perfect order. Its flowers were in gorgeous bloom, its walks clean and neat, the fences painted, and the gates swung on new hinges.
They stood with their arms about one another, watching the sun sink behind the mountains, with tears of gratitude and hope stirring their souls.
Ben Cameron strode through the gate, and they hurried to meet him with cries of joy.