‘You are very kind. No, I must get away immediately. I have a trap waiting to take me back to the station. Oh, by-the-way, Sampson, about that money you kindly advanced to me. It must come out of the estate somehow; I suppose you can manage that?’
‘Yes, I think I can manage that,’ answered Sampson modestly. ‘Do you want any further advance?’
‘No, the estate belongs to my wife now. I must not tamper with it.’
‘And what’s hers is yours of course. Well, I congratulate you with all my heart. You are the luckiest fellow I ever knew, bar none. A handsome wife, and a handsome fortune. What more can a man ask from Fate?’
‘Not much, certainly,’ said John Treverton, ‘but I must catch the last up-train. Good-night.’
‘Going back to the South of France?’
John Treverton did not wait to answer the question. He shook hands hastily with Eliza, and dashed out into the garden. A minute afterwards Mr. Sampson and his sister heard the crack of a whip, and the sound of wheels upon the high road.
‘Did you ever see such a volcanic individual?’ exclaimed the solicitor, folding up the deed of settlement.
‘I am afraid he is not happy,’ sighed Eliza.
‘I am afraid he is mad,’ said Tom.