Her first words, after the greeting and a kiss of welcome, were in regard to the ordeal she had passed through with Mr. Grim.
“To think, Arthur,” lisped Bertha, “of that old fool asking me to be his wife! Why, I really thought I would die, I did indeed!”
“And what did you say?” asked Boast.
“Why, you sweet old darling, what could I say but give him to understand that perhaps I was willing? I told him to wait a year, and then—.”
“Yes, and then?” hissed Arthur, through his teeth.
“Oh, don’t be foolish, my own darling,” said she, slipping her arms about his neck, “you know I was only pretending; you know that I loathe him, but I have been dependent on his bounty for so many years. I am only too ready, Arthur, to go with you; yes, to the ends of the earth.” She caressed him tenderly, and Arthur’s ill-feeling gave way before her tender entreaties.
He had heard Rufus Grim dictating the codicil to his will, and had been fired with a mad jealousy, but she had confessed all at their first meeting, and he felt relieved. He would not tell her of the codicil to the will; no, not now.