"The law decrees that children shall have their father's property, excepting, of course, a certain portion," said the lawyer.
"A paltry one-third," retorted Mrs. Montague, angrily.
"Yes, unless the heirs choose to allow something more to the widow.
Perhaps my client—"
Mrs. Montague sprang to her feet, her face flaming with sudden passion.
"Do you suppose I would ever humiliate myself enough to accept any favor from Mona Forester's child?" she cried, as she paced the floor excitedly back and forth, "Never! I will never be triumphed over. I will defy you all! Oh, to be beaten thus!—it is more than I can bear."
Mrs. Montague's fury was something startling in its bitterness and intensity, and the three gentlemen, witnessing it, could not help feeling something of pity for the proud woman in her humiliation, even though they were disgusted with her vindictiveness and selfishness.
"Defiance will avail you nothing, Mrs. Montague; an amicable spirit would conduce far more to your advantage," Mr. Corbin remarked. "And now I advise you," he added, "to quietly relinquish all right and title to this fortune excepting, of course, your third, and trust to your husband's daughter and her counsel to make you such allowance as they may consider right. If you refuse to do this we shall be obliged to resort to the courts to settle the question of inheritance."
"Take the matter into the courts, then," was the passionate retort. "I will defy you all to the bitter end. And you," turning with blazing eyes and crimson cheeks to Ray, "I suppose you imagined that you were to win a princely inheritance with your promised wife; that when you found this piece of parchment you would thus enable Mona Forester's child to triumph over the woman who hated her with a deadly hatred. Not so, I assure you, for my vengeance is even more complete than I ever dared to hope, and your 'promised wife,' my fine young man, will never flaunt her colors in triumph over me here in New York, for her reputation has been irretrievably ruined, and the city shall ring with the vile story ere another twenty-four hours shall pass."
"Don't be too sure, madame; don't be too sure that you're going to down that clever little lady just yet," were the words which suddenly startled every one in the room, and the next instant the door swung wide open to admit a new actor in the drama.
A brisk, energetic little man entered the room, and going directly to
Mrs. Montague's side, he laid his hand upon her shoulder.