The Missing BrideSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
The Missing Bride
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
Fiction
"Hish-ish! I'll tell you if you will never tell. Oh, Lord, no, you
mustn't indeed! You wouldn't, I know, 'cause it would ruin us! Listen--"
"Now, Aunt Nancy, don't be letting me into any of your capital crimes
and hanging secrets--don't, because I don't want to hear them, and I
won't neither! I ain't used to such! and I'm afraid of them, too!"
"'Fraid o' what? Nobody can prove it," answered Miss Nancy, a little
incoherently.
"You know what better than I do, Aunt Nancy; and let me tell you, you'd
better be careful. The eyes of the community are upon you."
"Let 'em prove it! Let 'em prove it! They ain't got no witnesses!
Chizzle and the cat ain't no witnesses," said Miss Nancy, obscurely;
"let 'em do their worse! I reckon I know something about law as well as
they do! if I am a lone 'oman!"
"They can procure your removal from office without proving anything
against you except unpopularity."
"That's Commodore Waugh's plan! the ugly, wicked, old buggaboo! 'Tain't
such great shakes of an office neither, the dear knows!"
"Never mind, Aunt Nancy, mend your ways, and maybe they'll not disturb
you. And don't tell me any of your capital secrets, because I might be
summoned as a witness against you, which would not be so agreeable to my
feelings--yon understand! And now tell me, if you are absolutely certain
that Miss Mayfield has had that fortune left her. But stop! don't tell
me how you found it out!"
"Well, yes, I am certain--sure, she has a great fortune left her. I have
the positive proofs of it. And, moreover, nobody in this country don't
know it but myself--and you. And now I tell you, don't hint the matter
to a soul. Be spry! dress yourself up jam! and go a courting before
anybody else finds it out!"
"But that would scarcely be honorable either," demurred the doctor.
"You're mighty particular! Yes, it would, too! Jest you listen to me!
Now if so be we were to go and publish about Marian's fortune, we'd have
a whole herd of fortune hunters, who don't care a cent for anything but
fortune, running after and worrying the life out of her, and maybe one
of them marrying of her, and spending of her money, and bringing of her
to poverty, and breaking of her heart. Whereas, if we keep the secret of
the estate to ourselves, you, who desarve her, because you 'counted her
all the same when she was poor, and who'd take good care of her
property, and her, too--would have her all to yourself, and nobody to
interfere. Don't you see?"
"Well, to be sure--when one looks at the thing in this light,"
deliberated the sorely-tempted lover.
"Of course! And that's the only light to look at it in! Don't you see?
Why, by gracious! it seems to me as if we were doing Marian the greatest
favor."
CHAPTER XX.
AS A LAST RESORT.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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