“Sweet image of your lovely mother, now an angel in heaven, we shall never be parted again! But now tell me the meaning of this strange scene.”
Clinging fondly to his arm the girl answered, spiritedly:
“That old Falstaff there held a mortgage on my guardian’s estate for fifteen thousand dollars, and offered to cancel it if I would become his wife. So I was persecuted into giving him my promise, and to save me from despair and suicide my dear governess planned to deceive them and put herself in my place.”
“But it won’t do any good,” blustered the angry Bennett, “I won’t take the old girl on any terms, and I’ll have my money out of Hermann all right, and that soon!”
He recoiled in surprise at the stranger’s contemptuous laugh.
“Your mortgage is not worth the paper it was written on, for I hold a prior one that Hermann executed to me over thirty years ago, for thirty thousand dollars, as much as the full value of his estate. This money he had from me before my Leola was born, because I admired his scientific attainment and wished to make him independent, so that he could prosecute his experiments in chemistry. At my dear wife’s death I went abroad with an exploring party to drown my grief. As Hermann’s mother was a kinswoman of mine, I left Leola with him, giving him ten thousand dollars for taking care of her, but it seems that he has betrayed his trust, and but for this noble governess here my poor girl would have been betrayed into a wretched marriage. I have no more use for so unworthy a guardian, but I shall not take revenge by foreclosing my mortgage on his home. I shall leave him in peaceable possession the term of his life; then Wheatlands will revert to my daughter, Leola. For the rest, as soon as Leola can pack up to leave I shall take my dear girl away with me to New York, and if Mr. Bennett repudiates his pretty bride, she may accompany us. I am rich, and for her love and care of Leola she shall be well repaid.”
The bride and groom looked at each other, she pitifully humble and entreating, he angry and resentful, yet on a sudden inclined to make the best of what seemed to him a bad bargain, so that he muttered, ungraciously: “You may come home with me, Amanda.”
CHAPTER XVI.
WIDOW GRAY AND THE YOUNG CAVE-HUNTERS.
The tender-hearted Mrs. Gray returned to her cottage after her repulse at Wheatlands in a very sad state of mind over Chester Olyphant’s strange disappearance.