Will he retire, and live his days out abroad? Is the marriage to
come at last?
"Philip, I don't understand you," she murmurs. Her bosom heaves
within its rich silks, under its priceless laces. The sparkling
diamonds in her hair glisten, as she gazes on his inscrutable face.
Is this heaven or hell? Paradise or a lonely exile? To have a name
at last for her child?
"Colonel Valois was killed at the battles near Atlanta. I have
just received from the Havana bankers the final letters of Major
Peyton, his friend." Hardin speaks firmly.
"Under the will, that child Isabel inherits the vast property. She
must be educated in France. Some one must take care of her."
Hortense leans over, eagerly. What does he mean? "There is no one but
me to look after her. The cursed Yankees will probably devastate
the South. I dare not probate his will just now. There is confiscation
and all such folly."
Philip Hardin resumes his walk. "I do not wish to pay heavy war
taxes and succession tax on all this great estate. I must remain
here and watch it. I must keep the child's existence and where-abouts
quiet. The courts could worry me about her removal. Can I trust
you, Hortense?" His eyes are wolfish. He stops and fixes a burning
glance on her.
Pages:
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360