Part 47 (1/2)

”And you never looked so handsome. Why, Jim, you're a boy again!” She rose and put her two hands on his shoulders, studying his sensitive, plain face, forcing his embarra.s.sed eyes to meet hers. ”My dear friend, my dear friend--So after all I am able to give you your happiness,” she said softly, and kissed him for the first time in their acquaintance.

In such fas.h.i.+on was her consent to his marriage with Jemima asked and granted; and with it full forgiveness for his treachery to a devotion of over twenty years.

They turned their attention hastily away from sentiment to settlements.

Thorpe was astonished by the amount of the dower Kate spoke of settling upon Jemima.

”Why, it is a small fortune! How did you make all this money?”

”Mules,” she said. ”Also hogs and dairy products, my three specialties.

Mustn't the old horse-breeding Kildares turn over in their graves out there at the desecration? When I came into the property, I soon saw that racing stock was a luxury we could not afford, so I used the gra.s.s lands for mules instead. We have been lucky. Storm mules have the reputation now that Storm thoroughbreds used to have in Basil's day: and they sell at a far surer profit.

”Then I sent to an agricultural college for the best scientific farmer they had, and the best dairyman--a big expense, but they have paid.

Also, we sell our products at city prices, since I persuaded the railroad to give us a spur here. We've cleared most of the land that Basil kept for cover, now, and are using every acre of it.--Oh, yes, I have made money, and I will make more. When I die the girls are going to be rich. The original Storm property will be divided between them then, according to Basil's will, you remember.”

”I do remember it,” said Thorpe, quietly. ”There was another provision in that will.... The girls will never inherit Storm, my dear, because some day Benoix will come back to you.”

She looked away out of the window. ”I have given up hope, Jim. Months now, and no word from him. He has gone. Philip thinks so, too.--But you are right. If he does come, the girls will not inherit, because I shall marry him. Even if we are old people, I shall marry him.”

She had lifted her head, and her voice rang out as it had rung through the prison when she cried to her lover that she would wait.

Thorpe kissed her hand. ”And when that happens,” he said gently, ”I want you to know that Jemima will understand. I can promise that. I shall teach my wife to know her mother better.”

She smiled at him, sadly. She suspected that he was promising a miracle he could not perform, counting upon an influencing factor that did not exist. ”Was he fatuous enough to believe that Jemima loved him? Her fears for her child's happiness suddenly became fears for the happiness of this life-long friend. She felt that she must warn him.

”I wonder if you know just the sort of woman you are marrying, Jim?

Jemima is very intelligent, and like many intelligent people she is a little--ruthless. Honorable, clear-sighted; but hard. She is more her father's child than mine. I do not always understand her, but--I do know that she is not sentimental, Jim dear.”

He touched her hand rea.s.suringly. ”She has told me that she is not marrying me for love, if that is what you are trying to say. She has given me to understand, quite conscientiously, that she is merely accepting the opportunities I can offer her--I, a dull, middle-aged, dyspeptic don in a backwater college!” he chuckled. ”But,” he added--and the glow in his eyes was quite boyish--”I have had occasion to observe in Jemima certain symptoms--a proprietary interest in my belongings, for instance, my rooms, my welfare, my health, my--er--personal appearance--which lead me to believe that her regard for me is not entirely intellectual. In fact, I know rather more about Jemima's inner workings, so to speak, than she knows herself. One is not a psychologist for nothing! The--er--the tender pa.s.sion manifests itself in various ways. Some women love with their emotions, as it were; some, G.o.d bless them! with their capable hands and brains.”

Kate was deeply touched. ”Perhaps you're right, Jim. I hope so, my dear.

I do hope so!”

Jacqueline received the news of her sister's engagement with shouts of glee. ”What a joke on you, Mummy! _What_ a joke! Old Faithful carried off under your very nose, by your own child! And Jemmy, of all people!

That's the way she did to that young man at G.o.ddy's party. Good old Jemmy! When she warms up, I tell you she can trot a heat with the best.”

”Jacky, hus.h.!.+” Kate laughed despite herself. ”You're getting too big to use that stable-talk. You would suppose Jemima had actually tried to entice him out of my clutches!”

”And didn't she, didn't she just? Why, you blessed innocent, she's had this up her sleeve for some time! I _thought_ she was being mighty attentive to G.o.ddy, teaching him to dance, and making him ties and all--only it never occurred to me she'd want--this!--Gracious!” she said, suddenly grave, ”you don't suppose she kisses him, Mummy?”

”I hope so, dear. Why not? You've kissed him often enough yourself.”

”And shall again, the funny old lamb! But not that way. Ugh!”

Mrs. Kildare winced to realize how far the education of her youngest had proceeded without her supervision.

Jacqueline's volatile thoughts had taken a new direction. ”That means Jemmy is going away to live. 'Way off to Lexington.”

Kate sighed. ”Farther than that, if I know Jemima.”