“Oh, Miss Beatrice, I have come to tell you something which makes me wish I was dead. What do you suppose I have done?”
“I am sure I cannot guess,” Beatrice replied, and Rossie continued, “I asked Mr. Everard to marry me,—actually to marry me!”
“Wha-at!” and Beatrice was more astonished than she had ever been in her life. “Asked Everard Forrest to marry you! Are you crazy, or a——”
She did not finish the sentence, for Rossie did it for her, and said,
“Yes, both crazy and a fool, I verily believe!”
“But how did it happen? What put such an idea into your head?”
Briefly and rapidly Rosamond repeated what had passed between herself and Lawyer Russell, who had asked how old she was, and on learning her age had suggested her marrying the young man and thus giving him back the inheritance.
“And you went and did it, you little goose,” Beatrice said, laughing until the tears ran down her cheeks; but when she saw how distressed Rosamond was she controlled her merriment, and listened while Rossie went on:
“Yes, I was a simpleton not to know any better, but I never meant him to marry me as he would marry you or some one he loved; that had nothing to do with it at all. And I was going right away from Forrest House to take care of myself. I knew I could find something to do, as nurse, or waitress, or ladies’ maid, if nothing more; and I meant to go just as soon as the ceremony was over and leave him all the money, and never, never come back to be in the way.”
“And you told him this, and what did he say?” Beatrice asked, her mirth all swept away before the great unselfishness of this simple-hearted girl, who went on: