"You're a trump, that's what you are!" he declared; "oh, yes, you are, Colonel! You're an incorrigible, incurable old ace of trumps--the very best there is in the pack--and it's entirely useless for you to attempt to conceal it."

"Gad----!" said the Colonel.

"And don't you worry about that will," Mr. Woods advised. "I--I can't explain things just now, but it's all right. You just wait--just wait till I've seen Peggy," Billy urged, in desperation, "and I'll explain everything."

"By gad----!" said the Colonel. But Mr. Woods was half-way out of the vestibule.

Mr. Woods was in an unenviable state of perturbation.

He could not quite believe that Peggy had destroyed the will; the thing out-Heroded Herod, out-Margareted Margaret. But if she had, it struck him as a high-handed proceeding, entailing certain vague penalties made and provided by the law to cover just such cases--penalties of whose nature he was entirely ignorant and didn't care to think. Heavens! for all he knew, that angel might have let herself in for a jail sentence.

Billy pictured that queen among women! that paragon! with her glorious hair cropped and her pink-tipped little hands set to beating hemp--he had a shadowy notion that the lives of all female convicts were devoted to this pursuit--and groaned in horror.

"In the name of Heaven!" Mr. Woods demanded of his soul, "what _possible_ reason could she have had for this new insanity? And in the name of Heaven, why couldn't she have put off her _tete-a-tete_ with Kennaston long enough to explain? And in the name of Heaven, what does she see to admire in that putty-faced, grimacing a.s.s, any way! And in the name of Heaven, what am I to say to this poor, old man here? I can't explain that his daughter isn't in any danger of being poor, but merely of being locked up in jail! And in the name of Heaven, how long does that outrageous angel expect me to remain in this state of suspense!"

Billy groaned again and paced the vestibule. Then he retraced his steps, shook hands with Colonel Hugonin once more, and, Kennaston or no Kennaston, set out to find her.

XVIII

But when he came out upon the terrace, Sarah Ellen Haggage stopped him--stopped him with a queer blending of diffidence and resolve in her manner.

The others, by this, had disappeared in various directions, puzzled and exceedingly uncertain what to do. Indeed, to congratulate Billy in the Colonel's presence would have been tactless; and, on the other hand, to condole with the Colonel without seeming to affront the wealthy Mr. Woods was almost impossible. So they temporised and fled--all save Mrs. Haggage.

She, alone, remained to view Mr. Woods with newly opened eyes; for as he paused impatiently--the sculptured Eagle above his head--she perceived that he was a remarkably handsome and intelligent young man.

Her motherly heart opened toward this lonely, wealthy orphan.

"My dear Billy," she cooed, with asthmatic gentleness, "as an old, old friend of your mother's, aren't you going to let me tell you how rejoiced Adele and I are over your good fortune? It isn't polite, you naughty boy, for you to run away from your friends as soon as they've heard this wonderful news. Ah, such news it was--such a manifest intervention of Providence! My heart has been fluttering, fluttering like a little bird, Billy, ever since I heard it."

In testimony to this fact, Mrs. Haggage clasped a stodgy hand to an exceedingly capacious bosom, and exhibited the whites of her eyes freely. Her smile, however, remained unchanged and ample.

"Er--ah--oh, yes! Very kind of you, I'm sure!" said Mr. Woods.

"I never in my life saw Adele so deeply affected by _anything_," Mrs.

Haggage continued, with a certain large archness. "The sweet child was always so fond of you, you know, Billy. Ah, I remember distinctly hearing her speak of you many and many a time when you were in that dear, delightful, wicked Paris, and wonder when you would come back to your friends--not very grand and influential friends, Billy, but sincere, I trust, for all that."

Mr. Woods said he had no doubt of it.

"So many people," she informed him, confidentially, "will pursue you with adulation now that you are wealthy. Oh, yes, you will find that wealth makes a great difference, Billy. But not with Adele and me--no, dear boy, despise us if you will, but my child and I are not mercenary. Money makes no difference with us; we shall be the same to you that we always were--sincerely interested in your true welfare, overjoyed at your present good fortune, prayerful as to your brilliant future, and delighted to have you drop in any evening to dinner. We do not consider money the chief blessing of life; no, don't tell me that most people are different, Billy, for I know it very well, and many is the tear that thought has cost me. We live in a very mercenary world, my dear boy; but _our_ thoughts, at least, are set on higher things, and I trust we can afford to despise the merely temporal blessings of life, and I entreat you to remember that our humble dwelling is always open to the son of my old, old friend, and that there is always a jug of good whiskey in the cupboard."

Thus in the shadow of the Eagle babbled the woman whom--for all her absurdities--Margaret had loved as a mother.

Billy thanked her with an angry heart.

"And this"--I give you the gist of his meditations--"this is Peggy's dearest friend! Oh, Philanthropy, are thy protestations, then, all void and empty, and are thy n.o.blest sentiments--every one of 'em--so full of sound and rhetoric, so specious, so delectable--are these, then, but dicers' oaths!"

Aloud, "I'm rather surprised, you know," he said, slowly, "that you take it just this way, Mrs. Haggage. I should have thought you'd have been sorry on--on Miss Hugonin's account. It's awfully jolly of you, of course--oh, awfully jolly, and I appreciate it at its true worth, I a.s.sure you. But it's a bit awkward, isn't it, that the poor girl will be practically penniless? I really don't know whom she'll turn to now."

Then Billy, the diplomatist, received a surprise.

"She'll come with me, of course," said Mrs. Haggage.

Mr. Woods made an--unfortunately--inaudible observation.

"I beg your pardon?" she queried. Then, obtaining no response, she continued, with perfect simplicity: "Margaret's quite like a daughter to me, you know. Of course, she and the Colonel will come with us--at least, until affairs are a bit more settled. Even afterward--well, we have a large house, Billy, and I don't see that they'd be any better off anywhere else."

Billy's emotions were complex.

"You big-hearted old parasite," his own heart was singing. "If you could only keep that ring of truth that's in your voice for your platform utterances--why, in less than no time you could afford to feed your Afro-Americans on nightingales' tongues and clothe every working-girl in the land in cloth of gold! You've been pilfering from Peggy for years--pilfering right and left with both hands! But you've loved her all the time, G.o.d bless you; and now the moment she's in trouble you're ready to take both her and the Colonel--whom, by the way, you must very cordially detest--and share your pitiful, pilfered little crusts with 'em and--having two more mouths to feed--probably pilfer a little more outrageously in the future! You're a sanctimonious old hypocrite, you are, and a pious fraud, and a delusion, and a snare, and you and Adele have nefarious designs on me at this very moment, but I think I'd like to kiss you!"

Indeed, I believe Mr. Woods came very near doing so. She loved Peggy, you see; and he loved every one who loved her.

But he compromised by shaking hands energetically, for a matter of five minutes, and entreating to be allowed to subscribe to some of her deserving charitable enterprises--any one she might mention--and so left the old lady a little bewildered, but very much pleased.

She decided that for the future Adele must not see so much of Mr.

Van Orden. She began to fear that gentleman's views of life were not sufficiently serious.

XIX

Billy went into the gardens in pursuit of Margaret. He was almost happy now and felt vaguely ashamed of himself. Then he came upon Kathleen Saumarez, who, indeed, was waiting for him there; and his heart went down into his boots.

He realised on a sudden that he was one of the richest men in America.

It was a staggering thought. Also, Mr. Woods's views, at this moment, as to the advantages of wealth, might have been interesting.

Kathleen stood silent for an instant, eyes downcast, face flushed. She was trembling.

Then, "Billy," she asked, almost inaudibly, "do--do you still want--your answer?"

The birds sang about them. Spring triumphed in the gardens. She looked very womanly and very pretty.

To all appearances, it might easily have been a lover and his la.s.s met in the springtide, shamefaced after last night's kissing. But Billy, somehow, lacked much of the elation and the perfect content and the disposition to burst into melody that is currently supposed to seize upon rustic swains at such moments. He merely wanted to know if at any time in the remote future his heart would be likely to resume the discharge of its proper functions. It was standing still now.

However, "Can you ask--dear?" His words, at least, lied gallantly.

The poor woman looked up into Billy's face. After years of battling with the world, here for the asking was peace and luxury and wealth incalculable, and--as Kathleen thought--a love that had endured since they were boy and girl together. Yet she shrunk from him a little and clinched her hands before she spoke.

"Yes," Kathleen faltered, and afterward she shuddered.

And here, if for the moment I may prefigure the Eagle as a sentient being, I can imagine his chuckle.

"Please G.o.d," thought poor Billy, "I will make her happy. Yes, please G.o.d, I can at least do that, since she cares for me."

Then he kissed her.

"My dear," said he, aloud, "I'll try to make you happy. And--and you don't mind, do you, if I leave you now?" queried this ardent lover.

"You see, it's absolutely necessary I should see--see Miss Hugonin about this will business. You don't mind very much, do you--darling?"