“Fancy an American Methodist pastor’s wife with a thousand pounds of her own! My!”
The train was rushing on; she remembered that she had a special letter to write. She opened her bag and took out writing materials. The carriage rocked tremendously, but she managed to pen her letter. Before she finally enclosed the letter in an envelope, she took from her purse a two-inch cutting from the columns of some newspaper or magazine. This she placed in the letter.
Tom Hammond had just settled himself down to work when a letter, bearing the Southampton post-mark, was delivered to him. Opening it, and reading “My dear Mr. Hammond,” he turned next to the signature. “Madge Finisterre?” he cried softly, surprisedly, under his breath. Wonderingly he turned back to the first page, and read:
“You will be surprised to know that when you receive this I shall be steaming down Channel en route for New York. I got letters from home this morning that made it imperative that I should start at once.
“I cannot leave without thanking you for all your kindness to me. It has been a pleasure to have known you, and I sincerely hope that we may meet again some day.
“Now I am going to take you right into my confidence, Mr. Hammond, for who so discreet as a ‘prophet?’—vide ‘The Courier.’
“Yesterday evening, after dinner, I had a long talk alone with myself. I had had a very pleasant tete-a-tete tea with a friend—perhaps you may remember this,—and while I went over in mind many things in connection with that tete-a-tete, especially the events immediately preceding the interruption, I suddenly realized a sense of longing for home.
“A night or two before I sailed from America, our pastor asked me to be his wife. He was awfully in earnest, poor fellow; and I could see how love for me—gay, frivolous little me—was consuming him. I was startled at the proposition, and told him frankly that I did not know my own mind, but that if ever I found out that I loved him, I would come right away and tell him so. I found out this morning, when I heard that he was dangerously sick, that I wanted him as much as ever he wanted me. At this stage of the letter, please read the cutting enclosed.”
Wondering what the clipping could have to do with the subject, Tom Hammond laid down the letter and read the cutting:
“A king had a son born to him in his old age, and was warned by his astrologers and physicians, that his son would be blind if he ever saw the light before he was twelve years old. Accordingly the king built for him a subterranean chamber, where he was kept till he was past the fatal age. Thereupon he was taken out from his retreat, and shown all the beauties of the world, gold and jewels and arms, and carriages and horses, and beautiful dresses. But seeing some women pass, he asked what they might be, and was told, ‘Demons, who lead men astray.’ Afterwards the king asked him which of all the beautiful things he had seen he desired most, and the prince answered, ‘The demons which lead men astray.’