John Dinsmore thus settled the matter in his own mind, and tried to feel duly happy over the result of his decision, but somehow he felt a vague regret, he could not have told why.
He had promised Jess that she should hear from him in the course of a week, or two weeks at the most. Now, after much reflection, he concluded to go to New York, and see her there, and tell her plainly the course he proposed to adopt.
She could certainly find no fault with his action when he revealed to her the astonishing information that he, whom she had wedded as plain Mr. Moore, was in reality John Dinsmore, co-heir with her to all the Dinsmore millions.
Her marriage with him had entitled her to her half of the vast estate, and he was willing to sign over the balance of it. He cared nothing for wealth, although it had poured in upon him from the sale of his famous book.
True, he had not communicated with his publishers since the day he left Newport to go South, and had met with the accident which laid him up at Caldwell farm; but for all that, he knew the money had accumulated, and was ready for him whenever he chose to call for it.
And once again he told himself bitterly that fame and fortune had come to him too late.
Had he possessed it in that bitter hour upon the Newport sands, when he laid his heart at the dainty feet of the proud Queenie Trevalyn, she might have accepted, and married him, and his blood ran riot for an instant through his veins at the bare thought of it. But he put her away from his thoughts most resolutely, telling himself that he must not allow his mind to dwell upon her for an instant, for she was now, of course, the bride of Raymond Challoner.
He had no thought that she would be in New York; indeed, he fancied that she would be spending her honeymoon abroad.
“Why should I yearn for you still, my queen?” he murmured hoarsely, stretching out his arms toward empty space with a great, tearless sob that he strangled fiercely in his throat rather than give it utterance. “God only knows; and I add: God help me!”
He had gained his self-possession, and was his usual calm self when at length he retraced his steps to the farmhouse. He went directly to the low-roofed kitchen, where he was sure of finding Lucy and her mother preparing the midday meal.