I snapped my teeth shut and ground them together. Then it was as I feared—she had married again, perhaps my old rival, Hilary Tempest, and he had turned out a villain.
I do not know why I should be so furious, since I had renounced all alliance with her, and my taking up cudgels in her defense would be Quixotic indeed; but there it was, the glow of righteous indignation. I had once loved her dearly, and no matter who he might be, the man who abused her in any way must settle with Morgan Kenneth.
But what folly to thus arrange matters when I had not as yet heard her tell the story that was to decide my fate.
CHAPTER XIX.
“POOR, WEAK, OLD PAPA.”
Hildegarde remained silent for a short time.
I knew she must be collecting her thoughts for the telling of a story coherently, and such a story as she meant to narrate was no small thing. Then she began.
There was something very like a tremor in her voice at times, which I took to be a favorable sign; surely memories of the past could not shake her like this if her affection had been wholly turned to hate.
“Perhaps there is nothing very new or novel in my story, Morgan; other women have placed their faith in man and been deceived; but to me it comes home with additional cruelty, because I had done so much for him—few could have done more. In return he entered into a conspiracy with the alcalde to force me into a total delivery of all I had left of—of what you gave me.”
Now, I cared mighty little about the money part of the business; I had found chances for investment during my wanderings that had already doubled my fortune, with a promise of even greater things; for, strange as it may seem, Fortune often showers golden favors upon those who are so wretched, otherwise, that they scorn the favor.