"It is the chief interest of my life," said Vincent, with simple frankness. "And that is why I cannot rest until I find them."
"Well, now, one question more," the banker continued. "I don't wish to pry into any young lady's secrets—but—but perhaps there may be some understanding between her and you?"
"I hope so," said Vincent.
"And the young wretch never wrote me a line to tell me of it!" Mr. Thompson exclaimed—but it was very obvious that this piece of news had caused him no chagrin. "The little Omahussy grows up to be a fine and tall young lady; chooses her sweetheart for herself; thinks of getting married and all the rest of it; and not a word to me! Here is filial gratitude for you! Why, does she forget what I have promised to do for her? Not that I ever said so to her; you don't fill a school-girl's head full of wedding fancies; but her grandfather knew; her grandfather must have told her when this affair was settled between you and her——"
But here Vincent had to interpose and explain that nothing was settled; that unhappily everything was unsettled; and further he went on to tell of all that had happened preceding the disappearance of Maisrie and her grandfather. For this man seemed of a kindly nature; he was an old friend of those two; then Vincent had been very much alone of late—there was no one in Omaha in whom he could confide. Mr. Thompson listened with close attention; and at last he said—
"I can see that you have been placed in a very peculiar position; and that you have stood the test well. The description of my old friend Bethune that your father put before you could be made to look very plausible; and I imagine that most young men would have been staggered by it. I can fancy that a good many young men would have been apt to say 'Like grandfather, like granddaughter'—and would have declined to have anything more to do with either. And yet I understand that, however doubtful or puzzled you may have been, at least you never had any suspicion of Margaret?"
"Suspicion?" said Vincent. "Of the girl whom I hope to make my wife? I need not answer the question."
Mr. Thompson give a bit of a laugh, in a quiet, triumphant manner.
"Evidently my little Omahussy had her eyes widely and wisely open when she made her choice," said he, apparently to himself.
"And what can I do now?" Vincent went on, in a half-despairing way. "You say you are certain they are not in Canada or they would have come to see you. The Scotchmen in New York told me they were positive Mr. Bethune was not there, or he would have shown up at the Burns Anniversary. Well, where can I go now? I must find her—I cannot rest until I have found her—to have everything explained—and—and to find out her reason for going away——"