Lady Linton looked up aghast at this information. It was the first she had ever heard of that matter.
“You begin to appreciate something of what I have suffered,” he continued, as he noticed the look, “but you can never begin to realize the misery which you brought upon two loving hearts so long separated; and to think that for more than eighteen years I was a father and never once looked upon the face of my child. Miriam, I can never overlook it. You have forfeited all respect from me, all claim upon me, and Heathdale can no longer be your home—you must go elsewhere to live, for I will not subject my wife to the constant companionship of one who has done her such irreparable wrong.”
“William Heath, will you turn me out from my home, where I was born?” cried the miserable woman, almost fiercely.
“Your home?” he returned, severely. “For how many years have you cheated my dear ones out of their home—out of the love and sheltering care which should have been theirs? While my wife was toiling to earn her own support and to make provision for my child, you were spending money which rightfully belonged to them, with a lavish, almost reckless, hand, and rearing your children amid the luxury of which you had maliciously deprived them. I have family pride enough to provide for your needful support, for I cannot see you suffer; so I will fit up Fernleigh Lodge for your use while you live, and settle upon you an annuity of two hundred pounds——”
“Two hundred pounds!” interrupted Lady Linton, in a tone of horror.
“Yes. With economy, that will be sufficient for your individual needs,” replied Sir William, coldly.
“I will give Lillian as much more until her marriage, when I shall hope to add something to the sum.”
His sister’s face was almost convulsed with rage at this announcement. She had never imagined any descent in the world so dreadful as this. She had spent three times the amount now offered her in a single year upon her own wardrobe, and now she was expected to provide her whole support out of two hundred pounds.
“Do you suppose Lillian and I are going to be able to live on a paltry sum like that?” she demanded, with quivering lips.
“My wife and child lived on far less than that for years, after you succeeded in ruining her faith in me,” was the stern response. “It was no sum settled outright upon her, either; she had to toil for it with her own hands. She was not only the provider for the household, but nurse, and governess, and seamstress as well; while your children had their maids and tutors, to say nothing of the bills which I have paid sewing-girls and milliners for them. We will reverse the order for a while, and the sum that I have named will have to answer your purpose, unless your fertile brain can invent some way to increase it.”