At his wife’s request he had exchanged places with his son, and riding on before the rest, had reached home first, being just in time to overhear the last part of the conversation between Mrs. Livingstone and ’Lena. Instantly changing her manner, Mrs. Livingstone motioned her niece from the room, heaving a deep sigh as the door closed after her, and saying that “none but those who had tried it knew what a thankless job it was to rear the offspring of others.”
There was a peculiar look in Mr. Graham’s eyes, as he answered, “In your case I will gladly relieve you, if my wife is willing. I have taken a great fancy to Miss Rivers, and would like to adopt her as my daughter. I will speak to Mrs. Graham to-night.”
Much as she disliked ’Lena, Mrs. Livingstone would not for the world have her become an inmate of Mr. Graham’s family, where she would be constantly thrown in Durward’s way; and immediately changing her tactics, she replied, “I thank you for your kind offer, but I know my husband would not think of such a thing; neither should I be quite willing for her to leave us, much as she troubles me.”
Mr. Graham bowed stiffly, and left the house. That night, after he had retired to his room, he seemed unusually distracted, pacing up and down the apartment, occasionally pausing to gaze out into the moonlit sky, and then resuming his measured tread. At last nerving himself to brave the difficulty, he stopped before his wife, to whom he made known his plan of adopting ’Lena.
“It seems hasty, I know,” said he, “but she is just the kind of person I would like to have round—just such a one as I would wish my daughter to be if I had one. In short, I like her, and with your consent I will adopt her as my own, and take her from this place where I know she’s not wanted. What say you, Lucy?”
“Will you adopt the old woman too?” asked Mrs. Graham, whose face was turned away so as to hide its expression.
“That is an after consideration,” returned her husband, “but if you are willing, I will either take her to our home, or provide for her elsewhere—but come, what do you say?”
All this time Mrs. Graham had sat bolt upright, her little dumpling hands folded one within the other, the long transparent nails making deep indentures in the soft flesh, and her gray eyes emitting green gleams of scorn. The answer her husband sought came at length, and was characteristic of the woman. Hissing out the words from between her teeth, she replied, “When I take ’Lena Rivers into my family for my husband and son to make love to, alternately, I shall be ready for the lunatic asylum at Lexington.”
“And what objection have you to her?” asked Mr. Graham; to which his wife replied, “The very fact, sir, that you wish it, is a sufficient reason why I will not have her; besides that, you must misjudge me strangely if you think I’d be willing for my son to come daily in contact with a girl of her doubtful parentage.”
“What know you of her parentage?” said Mr. Graham, his lips turning slightly pale.