Mr. Van Duren began to feel quite an affectionate regard for his lodger--leaving out of the question his lodger's daughter.
"Then Miss Byrne is an heiress without knowing it?" he said.
"Mum's the word," chuckled the old man, as he clutched Van Duren by the sleeve. "I'm telling you what I've always kept a secret from them; but there'll be thirty thousand between 'em when I go. Thirty thousand--not a single penny less!"
Van Duren's colour came and went. Miriam, then, would have a fortune of fifteen thousand pounds, respecting which, at present, she knew nothing! Would not the wisest thing he could do be to propose to her and win her consent to become his wife before she became aware of the golden future in store for her? Afterwards it might be too late--she might regard him with altogether different eyes when she knew that her dowry would be fifteen thousand pounds.
"A noble legacy, my dear sir--a truly noble legacy!" said Van Duren, warmly. "And were I in your place, I should not lose an unnecessary hour in making my testamentary arrangements. You may depend on it that your mind will feel more settled and easy when you have made everything secure, and put your wishes beyond the possibility of dispute."
"Egad! I'll take your advice; and if you'll send that lawyer of yours on Tuesday, I'll have the job got out of hand at once. I don't suppose I shall live a day less for having made my will--eh?"
"Not you, my dear sir--not you. There are many pleasant days in store for you yet. You are as tough as a bit of seasoned oak."
"Aye, aye. It's not always the youngest ones that are the strongest. Why shouldn't I live to be a hundred?"
"What a noble girl is that daughter of yours, Mr. Byrne!"
"A good girl, sir--a very good girl, though it is I who say it."