Jess of the Rebel Trail Part 22

"This is certainly good of you, madame," he remarked as he took the gla.s.s, and one of the doughnuts. "It's not often I get treated this way, especially when I call on business."

"What are you doing these days, Gabriel?" Mrs. Hampton asked as she placed the plate of doughnuts upon a flower-shelf near at hand, and seated herself upon the verandah steps.

Grimsby sipped the wine, and bit off a piece of his doughnut before replying. Then he looked at his hostess in a quizzical manner.

"Don't you know my business, madame?"

"I am afraid not, Gabriel, as you have been at so many different things during the last few years. I hope you have settled down to something steady for the sake of your family, at least."

"You need not worry at all about me now," and Grimsby's eyes twinkled.

He was thinking of the surprise he had in store for this woman, so he could take her words with good grace. "But money isn't everything, madame. Just think of that poor girl who drowned herself last night at Benton's wharf. She had all the good things of life, and yet she was not happy."

"What girl?" Mrs. Hampton asked. "I haven't heard about her."

"No, I suppose not. I only learned the news this morning. Men are now dragging the river for her body."

"It is certainly sad. Who is she? and why did she drown herself?"

"She is the only daughter of Randall, the big lumber merchant. Her father and mother wanted her to marry some young Lord, Donaster I think is his name. But she objected, so when they insisted, she took the matter into her own hands and made an end to her young life. So you see, madame, money isn't everything, is it?"

"Was she quite young?" Mrs. Hampton asked, unheeding Grimsby's question.

"About twenty, so I understand. And very pretty, too. I have seen her two or three times. She was very much sought after by young men, and a great favourite in society, so I have been told."

"How did she drown herself?"

"Went out in a boat, so I believe, and jumped overboard. They found the boat adrift down river this morning, and her hat was picked up along the sh.o.r.e. That's about all I know."

"Dear me, this is very sad," and Mrs. Hampton sighed. "I suppose John will know more about the affair when he comes home. Help yourself to the doughnuts, Gabriel."

"Thanks, madame. They are delicious. Your son is not at home, then?"

"No. He went to the city yesterday, and I am expecting him at any minute."

"What a big, fine-looking fellow he is getting to be, madame. I saw him the other day, and was surprised at the way he has grown. He's a great worker, too, so I hear."

"Yes, John is a good boy, Gabriel. He is a great comfort to me."

"Better than a daughter, eh?" As Grimsby asked the question he noted that Mrs. Hampton gave a slight start, and it pleased him. "A girl wouldn't be much use on a farm such as this," he continued. "I suppose he's doing something with that coal mine, too."

"It's the mine that took him to the city. The prospects are very encouraging, so I am anxious to hear how he has made out."

"A daughter, then, wouldn't be able to carry on such work, would she, madame?"

"I suppose not," was the somewhat slow reply. "But why do you ask?

Why do you mention a daughter to me?"

"Why shouldn't I? You have a daughter, haven't you?"

At these words Mrs. Hampton's face turned white. She rose to her feet, her whole body trembling, and confronted Grimsby.

"What do you mean?" she gasped. "Why do you ask whether I have a daughter?"

"It's true, though, isn't it? There, now, don't get so worked up. You seem to take my simple question very much to heart."

With her hand pressing her side, Mrs. Hampton stood staring upon the placid man before her. What does he know? she asked herself. Why did he mention a daughter to me?

"I see I am not far astray, madame. You have a daughter, and it is concerning her that I am here."

"Oh!" It was all that the woman could say, but the tone in which it was uttered clearly expressed the agony of her soul.

"Yes, madame, you understand now my business. For some time I tried to enlighten people's minds by supplying them with good literature. But business is dull these days, so I have been forced to turn to something else for a living for me and mine. And I must say that this new business pays much better. I am a stand-between, and in that capacity I am here to-day."

"A stand-between! I do not know what you mean."

"Quite true, madame. It is hard for you, living so comfortably, to understand how difficult it is for some people to stand between those they love and poverty. I fear I have not done very well along that line in the past, though I am improving now."

"But what has all this to do with my daughter, of whom you speak?" Mrs.

Hampton somewhat impatiently asked. "What right have you even to suggest that I have a daughter."

"Can you deny it?"

"Yes, I do."

"Madame! I am surprised at you."

"You need not be at all surprised, sir. I had a daughter once, but she has been dead for many years."

"Ah, madame, dead to you, perhaps, but not to others. Have you forgotten that?"

For a few seconds Mrs. Hampton tried to maintain her composure. But the strain was too much upon her, so sinking down upon the steps, she buried her face in her hands. Grimsby was by no means affected by the woman's distress. He rather enjoyed it. He knew now that she was in his power. Drawing forth a package of cigarettes, he selected one, lighted it, and smoked in silent contentment. He had often seen his wife in just such a situation, so it was nothing new to him.

At length Mrs. Hampton lifted her head and looked at Grimsby. There were tears in her eyes, and her face was drawn and white. The comfortable, self-satisfied man annoyed her, and a wave of indignation swept upon her.

"Why have you come here to-day to torment me?" she asked.

"Torment you! In what way?"

"By your words of insinuation."

"Are they not true?"

"Suppose I deny them?"

"It would be no use, madame. I have all the necessary proof."

"Of what?"