"Yes."
"How splendid! I'm glad! And of course I congratulate you .... No? .... You've not asked her yet? But that will be all right—of course it will!"
Taking off his cap to fan himself with, Gell broke into fits of half hysterical laughter. Then he said:
"You don't mind my saying something now that it's all over? No? Well, to tell you the truth I could never believe you really cared for Bessie. I thought you were only marrying her as a sort of duty, having got her into trouble with Dan Baldromma. And it was so—partly so—wasn't it? That didn't excuse me, though, did it? Lord, what a relief! I feel as if you had lifted ten tons off my head."
A dark memory came to Stowell. "Has she told him?"
"Bessie will be relieved, too, and just as glad as I am. Do you know, there's a heart of gold in that girl. She's never had a dog's chance yet. Not much education, I admit, but such spirit, such character! Such a woman too—you said so yourself, remember."
A still darker memory of something the Governor had said came to Stowell. "Didn't you say Bessie had written to me?" he asked.
"Yes, she did, yesterday; but I destroyed her letter."
"Do you know, I wrote to Bessie to-day, and I destroyed my letter also."
"No? What fun if your letters had crossed in the post," said Gell, and tossing his cap into the air, he broke into still louder peals of laughter.