And as for Rose Mary, she stood framed against the fern-lined dusk at
the back of the milk-house like a naiad startled as she emerged from
her tree bower. Quickly she raised her hand to her breast and just as
quickly the pressure of the letter laying there against her heart sent
a flood over her face that had grown pale and still, but she raised
her head proudly and looked the Senator straight in the face with a
questioning, hurt surprise.
"You didn't make the terms clear when you lent the money to us," she
said quietly.
"Well," he answered, beginning to take heart at her very tranquil
acceptance of the first bombardment, "I thought it best to let a time
elapse to soothe your deceived affections and cure your humiliation.
For the time being I was content to enjoy culling the flowers of your
friendship from time to time, but I now feel no longer satisfied with
them, but must be paid in a richer harvest. We will take charge of
this place, assure a comfortable future for the aged relatives in your
care, and as my wife you will be both happy and honored." The Senator
was decidedly coming into his own, and smile, glance and voice as he
regarded Rose Mary were unctuous. In fact, through their slits his
eyes shot a gleam of something that was so hateful to Rose Mary that
she caught her breath with horror, and only the sharp corner of her
letter pressed into her naked breast kept her from reeling. But in a
second she had herself in hand and her quick mother-wit was aroused to
find out the worst and begin a fight for the safeguarding of her
nesties--and the nest.
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