"But I love Lucille; she is a dear child, and it will be a pleasure to me to care for her," broke in Mollie earnestly.
"You are condemning yourself, my young friend," said the lawyer, with twinkling eyes, "for don't you see that money is no recompense for such an interest in any one; then you have pledged yourself to be a mother to her, according to your highest conception of the word; you are to watch and guard her development; you are to see that she is properly educated for the position she will occupy by and by; you have sacredly promised to do everything in your power to make her a true and noble woman, and thus you are accountable in a great measure for her future. If I might be allowed to judge—and I have dear children of my own—I should say that no pecuniary emolument could ever balance such responsibilities. Now, let me advise you not to feel burdened by the bequest of your good friend, but accept it in the same spirit in which it was bestowed; take up your new duties cheerfully, and try to be just as happy as possible in your future sphere—a sphere which, if I am not mistaken, you are eminently fitted to grace. Don't you think that such a course would better please Monsieur Lamonti, if he could speak, than to reject, from an oversensitiveness, what I know he must have regarded as a small return for what he owed you in the past and all that he has asked of you for the future?"
Mollie was silent for a few minutes, while she gravely considered what he had said, and tried to realize how she herself would have felt if the positions had been reversed. At length she looked up with clear eyes and her own sunny smile.
"You are right, Mr. Ashley," she said, "you have made me see things in a different light, and yet I think it will take me some time to get over the feeling, in view of all the wealth that has come upon me, like an avalanche, to manage, that I have an embarrassment of riches."
"Do not be troubled," the gentleman kindly returned, "for if affairs are managed in the future as they have been in the past—I mean according to Monsieur Lamonti's system—you will find that everything will move along very smoothly."
"You are surely very comforting," Mollie observed, her heart beginning to grow light once more. "Of course, you must be my counselor, and I trust you will not mind if I come to you with all my troubles, as freely as if I were your own daughter, at least until I become accustomed to my new duties."
And the gentleman said he should be very happy to have her honor him with her confidence to such an extent.
In spite of the blind way in which Monsieur Lamonti had worded his bequest to Mollie, it became noised abroad that the future guardian of the youthful heiress had herself been very handsomely dowered, and immediately all Washington became intensely interested in her. The romantic incidents connected with the saving of the child's life and the capturing of the midnight burglar—for that, also, had been whispered about—the beauty and refinement of Miss Heatherford, whom numberless people now began to remember as a previous New York belle, became, for the time, the talk of society, and much interest and curiosity were manifested regarding her plans for the future.
Would she remain in Washington and maintain the fine establishment of the late millionaire, or would she retire to some place where she would not be so closely watched during the minority and educating of her young charge? Would she enter society again, after a proper season of seclusion out of respect to Monsieur Lamonti, entertain and be entertained, and finally be won by some aspiring young man of the world?
Of course, Mollie's early life and training had well fitted her to preside in the palatial home of Lucille, and to shine among the most distinguished people of Washington, or, indeed, of any city; and, although she did not give much thought to society just now, there was much to induce her to remain where she was.