Four days later Mark, on his return from dinner, found Philip Cotter
sitting in his room waiting for him. They had met on the previous
evening, and Cotter had expressed his intention of calling upon him the
next day.
“I am here on a matter of business, Thorndyke,” the latter said as they
shook hands.
“Of business!” Mark repeated.
“Yes. You might guess for a year, and I don't suppose that you would hit
it. It is rather a curious thing. Nearly twenty years ago--”
“I can guess it before you go any further,” Mark exclaimed, leaping up
from the seat that he had just taken. “Your people received a box from
India.”
“That is so Mark; although how you guessed it I don't know.”
“We have been searching for it for years,” Mark replied. “Our lawyer,
Prendergast, wrote to you about that box; at least, he wrote to you
asking if you had any property belonging to Colonel Thorndyke, and your
people wrote to say they hadn't.”
“Yes, I remember I wrote to him myself. Of course that was before you
did me that great service, and I did not know your name, and we had not
the name on our books. What is in the box?”
“Jewels worth something like fifty thousand pounds.”
“By Jove, I congratulate you, old fellow; that is to say, if you have
the handling of it. Well, this is what happened. The box was sent to
us by a firm in Calcutta, together with bills for 50,000 pounds. The
instructions were that the money was to be invested in stock, and that
we were to manage it and to take 100 pounds a year for so doing. The
rest of the interest of the money was to be invested. The box was a very
massive one, and was marked with the letters XYZ. It was very carefully
sealed. Our instructions were that the owner of the box and the money
might present himself at any time.”
“And that the proof of his ownership was to be that he was to use the
word 'Masulipatam,'” Mark broke in, “and produce a gold coin that would,
probably--though of this I am not certain--correspond with the seals.”
He got up and went to the cabinet which he had brought up with him from
Crowswood, unlocked it, and produced the piece of paper and the coin.
“Yes, that looks like the seal, Thorndyke. At any rate, it is the same
sort of thing. Why on earth didn't you come with it before, and take the
things away?”
“Simply because I did not know where to go to. My uncle was dying
when he came home, and told my father about the treasure, but he died
suddenly, and my father did not know whether it was sent to England or
committed to someone's charge in India, or buried there. We did the only
thing we could, namely, inquired at all the banks and agents here and
at all the principal firms in Madras and Calcutta to ask if they had in
their possession any property belonging to the late Colonel Thorndyke.”
“You see, we did not know,” Cotter went on, “any more than Adam, to whom
the box belonged. Fortunately, the agent sent in his communication a
sealed letter, on the outside of which was written, 'This is to remain
unopened, but if no one before that date presents himself with the token
and password, it is to be read on the 18th of August, 1789.' That was
yesterday, you know.”
“Yes, that was my cousin's eighteenth birthday. We thought if my uncle
had left the box in anyone's charge he would probably have given him
some such instructions, for at that time there was hard fighting in
India, and he might have been killed any day, and would therefore
naturally have made some provisions for preventing the secret dying with
him.”
“We did not think of it until this morning early, though we have been
rather curious over it ourselves. When we opened it, inside was another
letter addressed 'To be delivered to John Thorndyke, Esquire, at
Crawley, near Hastings, or at Crowswood, Reigate, or in the event of his
death to his executors.'”
“I am one of his executors,” Mark said; “Mr. Prendergast, the lawyer,
is the other. I think I had better go round to him tomorrow and open the
letter there.”
“Oh, I should think you might open it at once, Thorndyke. It will
probably only contain instructions, and, at any rate, as you have the
coin and the word, you could come round tomorrow morning and get the
chest out if you want it.”
“I won't do that,” Mark said; “the coffer contains gems worth over
50,000 pounds, and I would very much rather it remained in your keeping
until I decide what to do with it. How large is it?”
“It is a square box, about a foot each way; and it is pretty heavy,
probably from the setting of the jewels. Well, anyhow, I am heartily
glad, Thorndyke. I know, of course, that you are well off, still 100,000
pounds--for the money has doubled itself since we had it--to say nothing
of the jewels, is a nice plum to drop into anyone's mouth.”
“Very nice indeed, although only half of it comes to me under my uncle's
will. To tell you the truth, I am more glad that the mystery has been
solved than at getting the money; the affair was a great worry to my
father, and has been so to me. I felt that I ought to search for the
treasure, and yet the probability of finding it seemed so small that I
felt the thing was hopeless, and that really the only chance was that my
uncle would have taken just the course he did, and have fixed some date
when the treasure should be handed over, if not asked for. I rather
fancied that it would not have been for another three years, for that is
when my cousin comes of age.”
“What cousin do you mean?” Philip Cotter asked. “I did not know you had
one.”
“Well, that is at present a secret, Cotter--one of the mysteries
connected with my uncle's will. For myself, I would tell it in the
market place tomorrow, but she wishes it to be preserved at present; you
shall certainly know as soon as anyone. By the way, I have not seen
you at Mrs. Cunningham's for the last week, and you used to be a pretty
regular visitor.”
“No,” the young man said gloomily; “I don't mind telling you that Miss
Conyers refused me a fortnight ago. I never thought that I had much
chance, but I had just a shadow of hope, and that is at an end now.”
“Perhaps in the future--” Mark suggested for the sake of saying
something.
“No; I said as much as that to her, and she replied that it would
always be the same, and I gathered from her manner, although she did not
exactly say so, that there was someone else in the case, and yet I have
never met anyone often there.”
“Perhaps you are mistaken,” Mark said.
“Well, whether or not, there is clearly no hope for me. I am very sorry,
but it is no use moping over it. My father and mother like her so much,
and they are anxious for me to marry and settle down; altogether, it
would have been just the thing. I do not know whether she has any money,
and did not care, for of course I shall have plenty. I shall be a junior
partner in another six months; my father told me so the other day. He
said that at one time he was afraid that I should never come into the
house, for that it would not have been fair to the others to take such
a reckless fellow in, but that I seemed to have reformed so thoroughly
since that affair that if I continued so for another six months they
should have no hesitation in giving me a share.”
It was too late to go up to Islington that evening. In the morning Mark
went with the still unopened letter to the solicitor's. The old lawyer
congratulated him most heartily when he told him of the discovery that
he had made.
“I am glad indeed, Mark; not so much for the sake of the money, but
because I was afraid that that confounded treasure was going to unsettle
your life. When a man once begins treasure hunting it becomes a sort of
craze, and he can no more give it up than an opium smoker can the use
of the drug. Thank goodness, that is over; so the capital amount is
doubled, and you are accordingly worth 70,000 pounds more than you were
this time yesterday--a fine windfall! Now let us see what your uncle
says.”
He broke the seal. The letter was a short one, and began:
“My DEAR JOHN:
“If you have not, before you receive this, got my treasure, you will get
it on the 18th or 19th of August, 17??89. I have made a will which will
give you full instructions what to do with it. I may say, though, that I
have left it between a little daughter who was born six months ago, and
your son Mark. My own intentions are to stop out here until I get the
rank of general, and I have taken the measures that I have done in case
a bullet or a sharp attack of fever carries me off suddenly. I hope that
you will have carried out the provisions of my will, and I hope also
that I shall have come home and talked the whole matter over with you
before I go under.
“Your affectionate brother.”
“A singular man,” Mr. Prendergast said, as he laid the letter down on
the table beside him. “What trouble these crotchety people do give!
I suppose you have altogether put aside that folly of his about the
jewels?”
“Well, no, I can't say that I have, Mr. Prendergast. Do you know that
I have a fancy--it may only be a fancy, but if so, I cannot shake it
off--that I am watched by Lascars. There was one standing at the corner
of the street as I came up this morning, and again and again I have
run across one. It is not always the same man, nor have I any absolute
reasons for believing that they are watching me; still, somehow or
other, I do come across them more frequently than seems natural.”
“Pooh, nonsense, Mark! I should have thought that you were too sensible
a fellow to have such ridiculous fancies in your head.”
“Of course, I should never have thought of such a thing, Mr.
Prendergast, if it had not been for what my father told me, that my
uncle was desperately in earnest about it, and had an intense conviction
that someone watched his every movement.”
“Don't let us talk of such folly any longer,” the lawyer said irritably.
“Now that you have got the money, the best thing you can do is to go at
once and carry out what was the wish both of your father and your uncle,
and ask your cousin to marry you; that will put an end to the whole
business, and I can tell you that I am positively convinced that the
day she gets twenty-one she will renounce the property, and that if you
refuse to take it she will pass it over to some hospital or other. You
cannot do better than prevent her from carrying out such an act of folly
as that, and the only way that I can see is by your marrying her. I
gathered from what you said when I gave you the same advice at Reigate
that you liked her and should have done it had it not been for her
coming into the estate instead of you. Well, you are now in a position
to ask her to marry you without the possibility of its being supposed
that you are a fortune hunter.”
“I will think about it, Mr. Prendergast. Of course this money does make
a considerable difference in my position; however, I shall do nothing
until I have got the jewels off my hands.”
“Well, a couple of days will manage that,” the lawyer said; “you have
only got to take the box to a first class jeweler, and get him to value
the things and make you an offer for the whole of them.”
Mark did not care to press the subject, and on leaving went to Cotter's
Bank. He was at once shown into his friend's room, and the latter took
him to his father.
“It is curious, Mr. Thorndyke,” the latter said heartily, “that we
should have been keeping your money all this time without having the
slightest idea that it belonged to you. We are ready at once to pay it
over to your order, for if you pronounce the word you know of, and I
find that the coin you have corresponds with the seal on the box, the
necessary proof will be given us that you have authority to take it
away. I have had the box brought up this morning, so that we can compare
the seal.”
The box was taken out of the strong safe, and it was at once seen that
the coin corresponded with the seals.
“I will leave it with you for the present, Mr. Cotter; it contains a
large amount of jewels, and until I have decided what to do with them I
would rather leave them; it would be madness to have 50,000 pounds worth
of gems in a London lodging, even for a single night. As to the money,
that also had better remain as it is at present invested. As I told your
son--that and the jewels are the joint property of myself and another. I
dare say that in a few days half of the money will be transferred to
the name of the other legatee; that can be easily done. I shall get
my lawyer, Mr. Prendergast, to call upon you, Mr. Cotter. I suppose it
would be better that some legal proof that we are entitled to the money
should be given.”
“I shall be glad to see him and to take his instructions,” the banker
said; “but in point of fact I regard the property as yours; I have
nothing to do with wills or other arrangements. I simply received
the box and the cash with an order that they should be delivered to
whomsoever should come with the word 'Masulipatam' and a coin to match
the seals. That you have done, and with subsequent dispositions I have
no concern. I shall be happy to keep this box for you as long as you
should think proper; and I have also written out an acknowledgement
that I hold securities of the value, at the closing prices yesterday, of
103,000 pounds 16 shillings,” and he handed the paper to Mark.
As the latter left the bank he looked up and down the street, and
muttered an angry exclamation as he caught sight of a rough looking
fellow just turning a corner into a side street. The glance was so
momentary a one that he could not say whether the man was a colored
seaman; but he certainly thought that he was a Lascar.
“I am going to have trouble about that bracelet,” he said to himself,
as he hailed a hackney coach and told him to drive to Islington. “I am
convinced that the Colonel was right, and that there are some men over
in this country with the fixed purpose of seeing what is done with those
jewels, and obtaining them if possible. How they could tell that they
were deposited at Cotter's beats me altogether. It may be indeed that
they really knew nothing about it, and have simply been watching me.
They can hardly have been watching me for the last nine months, and yet,
curiously enough, though I have never given the matter a thought since,
Charley Gibbons said that it was a dark colored man who brought the news
that took them to my rescue and saved my life. I have often run against
Lascars, and if they have taken this trouble all along, now that they
have seen me come out of the bank, I shall be watched night and day.
“It is a creepy sort of idea. I should not be afraid of any number of
them if they attacked me openly; but there is no saying what they might
do. I wish Ramoo had been here. I would have consulted him about it; but
as I got a letter from him only last week saying that he had, on the day
of writing it, arrived in Calcutta, it is of no use wishing that. At any
rate, I cannot do better than stick to the plan that my uncle sketched
out, and take them across to Amsterdam. It would be very unfair to take
them to any jeweler here. He might have them in his possession for a
week or ten days before he made me any definite offer for them, and
during that time I would not give a fig for his life. If I distribute
the stones at Amsterdam they would hardly set about attacking twelve
diamond merchants one after another. Well, at any rate, I must say
nothing about the affair to Millicent and Mrs. Cunningham. It was bad
enough my running risks in the pursuit of Bastow; but this would be ten
times worse, and I know Millicent would be for letting the things remain
for good at the banker's. But I have no idea of allowing myself to be
frightened by two or three black scoundrels into throwing away 50,000
pounds.”
Mrs. Cunningham and Millicent were sitting in their bonnets in the
parlor.
“Here you are at last, sir,” the girl said. “Another five minutes, and
we should have gone out. You told us that you would come early, and
now it is twelve o'clock; and you are generally so punctual in your
appointments. What have you got to say for yourself?”
“A good many things have happened since then, Millicent. Last night your
friend Mr. Cotter called upon me.”
“Why do you say my friend? He was your friend, and it was entirely
through you that we knew him at all.”
“Well, we will say 'our friend,' Millicent; and he made a communication
to me that this morning I had to go to Mr. Prendergast and make a
communication to him.”
“What do you mean by your communications?” Millicent asked, laughing.
“You are quite mysterious, Mark.”
“And then I had to go,” he went on, without heeding her interruption,
“to Cotter's Bank, where I saw both our friend and his father, and there
is the result of these communications and that interview;” and he threw
the paper to her.
“What does it mean?” she asked in astonishment, after glancing through
it.
“It means, dear, that your father took exactly the precautions I thought
he would take, and after sending his money and jewels home, he sent a
sealed letter to the firm with whom he deposited them, which happened to
be Cotter's, with instructions that should no one present himself with
the word and coin by the 18th of August, 1789--that is to say, on your
eighteenth birthday--the envelope should be opened; it was so opened,
and it contained a letter that was to be sent to my father, or, in the
case of his death before that date, to his executors.”
“How wonderful!” the girl said. “I had quite given up all idea of it.
But how is it that it came to be so much? Have they sold the jewels?”
“No, you see it is the compound interest going on for seventeen years,
and perhaps some rise in the value of the securities, that has doubled
the original sum invested. As for the jewels, I have left them at the
bank; I should not care about having 50,000 pounds worth of such things
in my rooms and I should not think that you would like to have them
here, either.”
“Certainly not,” Mrs. Cunningham said emphatically; “you did quite
right, Mark. I don't think I could sleep, even if you had half a dozen
of your detective friends posted round the house.”
“Still I suppose we shall have a chance of seeing them?” Millicent said.
“Certainly. I can make an appointment with Philip Cotter for you to see
them at the bank; or if I take them to a jeweler to value, you could
see them there. But I should think that the bank would be the best. I am
sure that Cotter would put his room at your disposal, and, of course,
if you would like to have some of them for yourself you could select
any you liked, but I expect that they won't look much in their present
settings; the Indian jewelers have not the knack of setting off gems.
However, there is no hurry about them one way or another. The money,
I have told Cotter's father, shall, for the present, remain as it
is invested; it is all in the Funds, Cotter said, for although the
instructions were that it was to be put into good securities, he did
not feel justified under the peculiar circumstances in going outside
Government stock. Mr. Prendergast is quite of opinion that it would be
better to make no change until you come of age. I did not know whether
you would wait till then, for some purpose or other you might want to
use some of it.”
Millicent shrugged her shoulders.
“I think I would much rather have had just the money I had before, Mark;
all this will be a great nuisance, I am sure. I think there ought to be
a law against women having more than 20,000 pounds, whether in money or
in land.”
Mark laughed.
“It would be a bad thing for spendthrift young noblemen, Millicent. How
are they to pay off their debts and mortgages if there were no heiresses
ready to do so in exchange for a title?”
“It would be a good thing for them, I consider,” the girl said
indignantly. “In the first place, they would not impoverish themselves
if they knew that there was no way of building up their fortune again,
and in the next place, if they did ruin themselves they would have to
either set to work to earn an honest living or blow out their brains,
if they have any to blow out. I can assure you that I don't feel at all
exultant at getting all this money, and I think that my father was quite
right in wishing that I should know nothing about it until I married;
but, on the other hand, I am heartily glad, more glad than I can say,
Mark, that you have come into your share.”
“I am glad for one reason, Millicent; that is, that this must put an end
to the ridiculous idea you have of giving up Crowswood. Your father has
made me rich beyond anything I could possibly have expected from him.
I suddenly find myself a wealthy man, and I can buy another estate for
myself worth more than Crowswood if inclined to settle down as a squire;
therefore your theory that I have been disappointed in not inheriting
what I thought was my father's estate falls to the ground altogether. In
no case would I ever have accepted your sacrifice. If you had liked to
hand it over to St. Bartholomew's or Guy's Hospital, or to give it away
to any other charity, I would not have prevented you, but I would never
have accepted it for myself. Now, thank goodness, the question cannot
arise; for you must see that, even looking at the matter from a purely
business point of view, I have benefited to an enormous and altogether
unexpected extent by your father's will, and if any contest between us
could arise it should be on the ground that he has acted unfairly to you
by giving me so large a proportion of the money that, in the course of
nature, you should have inherited. It was not even as if he had known
and liked me, for I was but four years old at the time he wrote the
letter saying that I was to share the money and jewels with you.”
“You are very obstinate and very disagreeable, Mark,” she said, with
tears in her eyes.
“I think the obstinacy has been principally on your side, Millicent;
though certainly I should not think of saying that you have been
disagreeable. It has been an excess of kindheartedness on your part,
and you have resolutely closed your eyes to the fact that, had I been
willing to take advantage of your generosity, I should have lacked the
courage to do so, for I should have been pointed at wherever I went,
as a mean fellow who took advantage of his little cousin's romantic
generosity. Pray, dear, let us say no more about it. We are two rich
young people; we have both an estate; yours, I grant, is the larger,
but if I choose I can increase mine, until it is quite as large as
Crowswood. We can be better friends than we have been for the last year,
because this point of dispute has always stood between us and made us
uncomfortable. Now you will have to think over what you would like done,
and whether you wish any change made in your manner of living.”
“Did you tell Mr. Cotter,” Millicent laughed, after a pause, “that I had
a half share in the money?”
“No, that was a matter for you to decide, not for me. I told him that
I was only a half shareholder, but there was no necessity to say who
it was who had the other half. When I was talking to Philip Cotter, the
words 'my cousin' slipped out, but he did not associate it in any way
with you. It might have been the son of another brother or of a sister
of my father's.”
“In that case, then, we will certainly make no change, will we, Mrs.
Cunningham?”
“I think, Millicent, that Mr. Prendergast and Mark will probably be of
opinion that you ought now to be introduced regularly into society. The
fact that you are a rich heiress might, as your father so much wished,
remain a secret. But it is one thing having this blazoned about and
quite another for you to be living quietly here, where, with the
exception of Mr. Cotter and a few other friends, you have no society
whatever. Certainly it was not the wish of your father that you should
remain unmarried. You are quite pretty and nice enough to be sought for
yourself alone, and I must say that I think, now that you have finished
with your various masters, it would be well that you should go out a
good deal more, and that as a first step we should go down to Bath this
year instead of paying another visit to Weymouth, as we had arranged.”
“I don't want any change at all, Mrs. Cunningham. If I am to get married
I shall be married; if I am not I shall not fret about it.”
“But for all that, Millicent,” Mark said, “Mrs. Cunningham is right.
We quite agree that there is no occasion whatever for you to go about
labeled 'A good estate and over 70,000 pounds in cash,' but I do think
that it is right that you should go into society. With the exception of
Philip Cotter, Dick Chetwynd, and two or three other of my friends, you
really know very few people. You have now gone out of mourning, and I
think that Mrs. Cunningham's proposal that you should go down to Bath
is a very good one. I shall not be sorry for a change myself, for I have
been engrossed in my work for a long time now. I can go down a day or
two before you, and get you comfortable lodgings, and will myself
stay at a hotel. Although I have no intimate friends beyond those from
Reigate, I know a large number of men of fashion from meeting them at
the boxing schools and other places, and could introduce you both, and
get you into society.”
“I am altogether opposed to the idea,” Millicent said decidedly. “You
want to trot me out like a horse for sale.”
“No, Millicent,” Mark said calmly. “I only want you to have the same
advantages that other girls have, neither more nor less, and for you
to enjoy yourself as others do. There is nothing undignified or
objectionable about that, especially as we are agreed that nothing shall
be said about your fortune. Well, we will think it over. Mr. Prendergast
and I certainly do not wish to act as tyrants, and there is no occasion
to come to a decision in a hurry. We have only discovered our good
fortune today, and can scarcely appreciate the difference that it will
make to us. We can think over what will be for the best at our leisure,
and see if we cannot hit upon some plan that will be agreeable to you.”
“Thank you, Mark,” she said gratefully. “I am afraid that you must think
me very disagreeable and cross; but though you, as a man, have not the
same sort of feelings, I can assure you that I feel all this money and
so on to be a heavy burden; and were it not for your sake I could wish
heartily that this treasure had never been discovered at all.”
“I can quite understand that,” he said quietly. “At the present moment,
even, I do not see that it will be of much advantage to me; but it may
be that some day I shall see it in a different light. It has come upon
me almost as suddenly as it has upon you. I thought that after I had
finished with the Bastow affair I should set to work to find out this
treasure, and that it would probably take me out to India, occupy me
there for some time, and that afterwards I might travel through other
places, and be away from England three or four years. Now the matter
is altogether altered, and I shall be some time before I form any fresh
plans. In fact, these must depend upon circumstances.”
Mrs. Cunningham had left the room two or three minutes before, thinking
that Mark might be able to talk her charge into a more reasonable state
of mind were he alone with her, and he added:
“Of one circumstance in particular.”
She looked up inquiringly.
“Well, Millicent, it depends a great deal upon you. I know you think
that all that has happened during the past year has been a little hard
upon you, and I thoroughly agree with you; you were fond of Crowswood,
and were very happy there, and the change to this somewhat dull house,
just at a time when you are of an age to enjoy pleasure, has been a
trial. Then, too, there has been this question of the estate upon your
mind. But you must remember it has been somewhat of a trial to me also.
I grant that I have had plenty of occupation which has been in every way
beneficial to me, and have not at all lamented leaving the country, but
in one respect it has been a trial. I don't know whether it ever entered
your mind, before that sad time at home, that I was getting to care for
you in a very different way to that in which I had done before.
“My father, I think, observed it, for he threw out a very plain hint
once that he would very gladly see us coming together. However, I never
spoke of it to you. I was young and you were young. It seemed to me that
there was plenty of time, and that, moreover, it would not be fair for
me to speak to you until you had had the opportunity of going out and of
seeing other men. Then came the evening before his death, when my father
told me how matters really stood, and he again said that there was a way
by which all trouble could be obviated. But I saw that it was not so,
and that the hope I had entertained must be put aside. I had never told
you I loved you when I seemed to be the heir of the property and you
only the daughter of an old comrade of his, and I saw that were I to
speak now, when you were the heiress, it could not but appear to you
that it was the estate and not you that I wanted, and I felt my lips
were sealed forever. Mr. Prendergast said that day when he came down to
the funeral, and you told him that you would not take the property, that
it might be managed in another way, and you said that you did not want
to be married for your money; so you see you saw it in exactly the same
light as I did.
“My first thought this morning, when Mr. Cotter told me that the money
had mounted up to over 100,000 pounds, was that it would unseal my
lips. You were still better off than I was, but the difference was now
immaterial. I was a rich man, and had not the smallest occasion to marry
for money. Whether I married a girl without a penny, or an heiress,
could make but little difference to me, as I have certainly no ambition
to become a great landowner. I still think that it would have been more
fair to you to give you the opportunity of seeing more of the society of
the world before speaking to you, but you see you are opposed to that,
and therefore it would be the same did I wait patiently another year,
which I don't think I should be able to do. I love you, Millicent. It
is only during the past eighteen months, when I have thought that I
had lost you, that I have known how much I love you, and how much my
happiness depends upon you. I can truly say that were you penniless, it
would make no shadow of difference to me. It is no longer a question of
arranging matters comfortably: it is a question of love. The estate is
nothing to me. It never has been anything, and it does not count at all
in the scale. I hope that you will put it altogether out of your mind in
giving me an answer; and that if you cannot say as truly and wholly as I
do, 'I love you,' that you will say as frankly as you have always spoken
to me, 'I love you very much as a cousin, Mark, but not in that way.'”
The girl had sat perfectly quiet while he was speaking.
He was standing before her now, and he took one of her hands.
“I love you, dear; I love you with all my heart. Do you love me?”
Then she looked up and rose to her feet, and placed both hands upon his
shoulders.
“As you love me, so I love you, Mark.”
After that, conversation languished till Mrs. Cunningham came into the
room, five minutes later.
“We have come to the conclusion, Mrs. Cunningham,” he said, “that there
will be no necessity for the visit to Bath. Millicent is otherwise
provided for; she has promised to be my wife.”
“I am glad, Mark, glad indeed!” and she took Millicent in her arms and
kissed her tenderly. “I have all along hoped for it, but I began to
be afraid that you were both such obstinate young people that it would
never come about. I know that your father wished it, Mark, and he told
me that his brother had said that it would be a good arrangement if
some day you should come to like each other. I have guessed for the last
year, and, indeed, before then, that Millicent would not say 'No' if you
ever asked her; but this stupid estate seemed to stand in the way. Of
late, I have even come to hope that the obstinate girl would keep to her
intention, and that if, as I knew would be the case, you refused to take
the estate, she would give it away to some charity. In that case, there
could be nothing to prevent your speaking; and even then you would have
been between you very fairly equipped with this world's goods. However,
the present is a far better solution, and the discovery of the treasure
has saved you from three years' waiting before things were straightened
out. I feel as if I were her mother, Mark, having had her in my charge
since she was a baby; and as she grew up it became my fondest hope to
see you united some day, and I think that I am almost as pleased that my
hope has been fulfilled as you are yourselves.”