As she came nearer to the library she began to have a little dread of what she might encounter, and visions of lawyers and constables, armed and equipped to arrest her bodily, flitted uneasily before her mind; but when Frank replied, “There is no one there but mother,” her fear vanished, and was succeeded by a most violent fit of anger at the luckless Mrs. Walter Scott.
“The jade!” she said. “I always mistrusted how her snoopin’ around would end. If I’d had my way, she should never have put foot inside this house, the trollop.”
“Mrs. Floyd, you are speaking of my mother. You must stop. I cannot allow it.”
It was the master of Millbank who spoke, and Hester turned upon him fiercely.
“For the Lord’s sake, how long since you took such airs? I shall speak of that woman how and where I choose, and you can’t help yourself.”
By this it will be seen that Hester was not in the softest of moods as she made her way to the library, but her feelings changed the moment she stood in the room where Roger was. She had expected to find him hot, excited, defiant, and ready, like herself, to battle with those who would take his birthright from him. She was not prepared for the crushed, white-faced man who looked up at her so helplessly as she came in, and tried to force a smile as he pointed to a chair at his side, and said,—
“Sit here by me, Hester. It is you and I now. You and I alone.”
His chin quivered a little as he held the chair for her to sit down, and then kept his hand on her shoulder as if he felt better stronger so. He knew he had her sympathy, that every pulsation of her heart beat for him, that she would cling to him through weal and woe, and he felt a kind of security in having her there beside him. Hester saw the yellow, soiled paper spread out before him, and recognized it at a glance. Then she looked across the table toward the proud woman who sat toying with her rings, and exulting at the downfall of poor Roger. At her Hester glowered savagely, and was met by a derisive smile, which told how utterly indifferent the lady was to her and her opinion. Then Hester’s glance came back, and rested pityingly on her boy, whose finger now was on the will, and who said to her,—
“Hester, there was another will, as Helen thought. It is here before me. It was found under the garret floor. Do you know who put it there?”
He was very calm, as if asking an ordinary question, and his manner went far toward reassuring Hester, who, by this time, had made up her mind to tell the truth, and brave the consequences.