That night, Mr. Rushmere was duly informed of the communication Gilbert had made to his mother. He had, however, carefully concealed the duplicity of his wife, with regard to the fortune, by saying that she had fully believed that she was to be heir to her uncle's property, and was as much disappointed as himself. Old Rushmere sat for some time beside his wife's bed astonished and almost stupefied.
"Oh, dang it, wife," he broke out at last, "this is a confounded bad business, and ruination to us all. To think that the boy should be sich a simple fool, to go an' marry a woman older nor himself without being sure o' the money. Sold his commission too, and to pay her debts—worse and worse—an' nothing but the pension for his wound to depend on to keep his wife an' mother from starving. Well, well, that ever Lawrence Rushmere should be father to such a simpleton."
"Lawrence," and Mrs. Rushmere took the large brown hand of her husband between her thin pale hands, "you must forgive him for my sake."
"Dang it, wife. How am I going to keep all this posse o' people. It's unreasonable, that it be; a' won't do it."
"He be your only son, Lawrence, all that will soon be left to you o' me."
"Oh, Mary, you are not going to leave me, not yet, not yet. A few more years and then we must both go. But oh, not yet, not yet, my dear, good wife. Get hearty and well, and old Larry will do all you require o' him." The stout old yeoman bent over the pillow, and kissed the pale meek face of his wife, and the tears from her gentle blue eyes.
"Well, Larry, dear, you must do this for me whiles I be living. Give your son an' his family a home, until such time as poor Gilly's arm's healed, an' he be able to help himself. You are not a poor man, husband, an' can spare this much for an only son. An' remember he might have done better if ye would only ha' let him."
"Aye, I'm sorry for that now. Doll would have made him a better wife than his butterfly o' a woman. If so be, I have to keep her, Gilly must set her to work, an' the old mother likewise. I'm not going to keep a house full o' sarvants to wait upon them."
"Neighbour Sly wants a girl, an' will take Polly off your hands, Lawrence, an' this Martha Wood can fill her place. But leave me Dorothy, my darling Dorothy, till I be gone. It won't be long."
On the whole, Rushmere behaved better than could be expected. At dinner, he told Gilbert that his mother had informed him of his troubles, and he was willing to take him as partner in the farm; he was to manage the concern and dispose of all the produce, sharing the returns equally with him.