"She will be talked into it. Marguerite will do anything rather than incur her mother's ill-will; for depend upon it, Matilda will lead her a sorry life if she shows opposition to her will."
"I have been too careless, Hester. It is yet time enough, thank God! When Marguerite is once more safe in my sheltering arms she will neer be subjected to the importunities of disagreeable suitors."
"Evelyn has too much diplomacy in her character. Marguerite cannot cope with her ingenious allurements, depend upon it, but I hope everything may turn out for the best yet," said Mrs. Montgomery, with a wistful look upon her countenance.
"Hester, I have much to think of. Sometimes my thoughts are almost insupportable, I almost sink—I believe I would if it were not for Marguerite. She is my ministering angel—and I miss her so much."
It was only on this evening that Mr. Verne had become communicative. He was always looked upon as a cold, reticent man, who had no sympathy with humanity in general; but there were those who could say "God bless you, Mr. Verne," from the bottom of their hearts. Who will presume to say that those grateful invocations were lost upon the winds—that they were not wafted to the Throne of Mercy, and received the plaudits of the King of Kings?
"I have long been thinking of having a talk with you, Stephen, and I feel now is the time," said Mrs. Montgomery, in confidential tone, yet betraying some hesitation. "We all know Stephen, that your family is living beyond your means, and that you are robbing yourself of health, strength and peace of mind to keep up an extravagant appearance. I ask you if that is right?"
"Hester, it is this that is killing me by inches, yet I cannot prevent it. What can I do? I cannot breast the current that is carrying along everything with it in maddening fury. One day I must make the plunge!"
Mr. Verne buried his face in his hands and wept like a child, while Mrs. Montgomery sat motionless, her eyes fixed upon the quaintly carved case of the eight day clock, whose solemn tick made the stillness more oppressive.
Mrs. Montgomery was the first to speak. "Stephen, it is not too late to straighten up matters. Take my advice, and if you are not more prosperous a year hence I will give you the deed of 'Gladswood.'—a present on your next birthday."
Mr. Verne forced a smile, and grasping the woman's hand, exclaimed, "Hester, you are, indeed, a friend in the hour of need. I feel stronger already."