"Wait until to-morrow, sir, you will feel stronger."
"Very well, my boy, let it be to-morrow," and Mr. Verne dropped off in a peaceful slumber—aye, gentle and peaceful as that of a child.
Phillip Lawson's thoughts were confusion manifold as he sat with his hands folded listlessly across his breast. He was questioning the genuineness of his motives in keeping from Mr. Verne a secret which deeply affected the interests and welfare of his child.
"If Marguerite loved Hubert Tracy why should I thwart her fond hopes. Hubert Tracy has wronged me, though his act failed. Have I any right to rake up the intended wrong and hunt him down as an avenging deity.
"And for what," asked Phillip, as he gazed wildly around, fearing some one should intrude upon his privacy. "It was the green-eyed monster that goaded the weak-minded Hubert to be tempted. And must I, in possession, of all my senses, retaliate from the same cause! Ah, no, Hubert. You will go free, but Heaven will not suffer you to pollute a pure and innocent being. Ah, no." And more than ever inspired with faith, in the decrees of an All-Wise Providence, Phillip Lawson fully resolved to hold his peace.
"I feel that I am doing what is right in the sight of Heaven, and that thought gives me double resolution."
Mr. Lawson's soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of a domestic who came to take his place.
Mrs. Montgomery, being anxious, had also come in to make numerous inquiries, and to see that the young man should seek some rest.
"Blessings on her kindly soul," murmured the latter, as he went into the tasteful dressing-room and threw himself upon the lounge, where soft pillows and ample covering showed that loving hands had not forgotten his comfort.
But Phillip Lawson did not sleep. He turned listlessly from side to side. He tried to divert his thoughts to business and to many and varied subjects but through all and above all arose the words "very well, my boy, let it be to-morrow."