This was the argument on his side; and, trusting to his attractions, he still fancied himself pretty sure of being able to make a conquest of the American—even to making her the victim of an illegal marriage.
And if he should succeed in his bigamous scheme, what then? What use would she be as a wife, unless her mother should keep that promise he had overheard: to endow her with the moiety of her own life-interest in the estate of the deceased storekeeper?
To many Julia Girdwood against her mother’s wish would be a simple absurdity. He did not dread the danger that might accrue from the crime. He did not think of it. But to become son-in-law to a woman, whose daughter might remain penniless as long as she herself lived, would be a poor speculation. A woman, too, who talked of living another half-century! The jest was not without significance; and Swinton thought so.
He felt confident that he could dupe the daughter into marrying him; but to get that half-million out of the mother, he must stand before the altar as a lord!
These were Mrs Girdwood’s original conditions. He knew she still adhered to them. If fulfilled, she would still consent; but not otherwise.
To go on, then, the sham incognito must be continued—the deception kept up.
But how?
This was the point that puzzled him.
The impersonation had become difficult. In Newport and New York it had been easy; in Paris still easier; but he was at length in London, where such a cheat would be in danger of being detected.
Moreover, in his last interview with the ladies, he had been sensible of some change in their behaviour toward him—an absence of the early congeniality. It was shown chiefly by Mrs Girdwood herself! Her warm friendship suddenly conceived at Newport, continued in New York, and afterwards renewed in Paris, appeared to have as suddenly grown cool.