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Rockharrt's arm "Grandfather, I think, now that the rush of travelers have passed northward, you may be able to get me another room. In Mrs. Stillwater's nervous condition it cannot be agreeable to her to have the disturbance of a room-mate." "What do you say, my child?" inquired Mr. Rockharrt of his guest.
All the people of North End, except the aged, infirm and infantile, were trooping down the valley, on the rough road between the foot of the West Ridge and the side of the river, to a fete to be given them at Rockhold on the occasion of the marriage of old Aaron Rockharrt's granddaughter, Corona Haught, to Regulas Rothsay, the governor-elect of the State.
Would you like to see a minister, dear?" "If Mr. Rockharrt does not object." "Then you shall see one." Rose's sick room was on the opposite side of the hall from Mr. Rockharrt's convalescent apartment. If the Iron King felt any sorrow at his young wife's mortal illness, he did not show it. If he felt any compunction for having taxed her strength to its extremity, he did not express it.
Rose Stillwater had an excellent hand, and she knew by the pleased looks of her partner, Mr. Clarence, that he also had a good one; and by the annoyed expression of Mr. Rockharrt's face that he had a bad one. Cora's countenance was as the sphnix's; she was too sadly preoccupied to care for this game.
Rose started, caught her breath, and stared at the speaker; the greed of gain dilating her great blue eyes. The third of the Rockharrt's fabulous wealth to be hers at her husband's death! Amazing! How many millions or tens of millions would that be? Incredible! And all for her, and she with, perhaps, half a century of life to live and enjoy it! What a vista!
I shall be all right presently. Don't be frightened, darling," said Cora, as well as she could speak. "But let me do something for you!" "You can do nothing." "But what caused this?" "My feelings have been outraged! outraged! That is all!" "How? How? Surely not by Mr. Rockharrt's announcement of your betrothal to the duke?
The boat was at the wharf. They alighted from the carriage and went on board. Old Aaron Rockharrt's hot haste did not avail them much. The boat remained at the wharf for ten minutes, during which the Iron King secretly fumed and fretted. "Does this boat connect with the 10:50 train for New York?" he inquired. "Yes, sir," was the answer. "Then you will miss it." "Oh, no, sir."
"I mean that I have never been engaged to the Duke of Cumbervale, and never mean to marry him. Mr. Rockharrt's announcement was unauthorized and unfounded. It was just an act of his despotic will, to oblige me to contract a marriage which he favors." The two men looked on the speaker in mute amazement. "We will not talk more of this to-night. But the matter must be set right to-morrow," said Cora.
You shall never touch one cent of old Aaron Rockharrt's millions!" Having launched this threat, she got up and went to her room. Ten minutes later she drove out in a carriage alone. She did not return to luncheon. Neither did Mr. Rockharrt, who had gone down to Wall Street.
She was not the old man's darling and sovereign, as she had hoped and planned to be. She was the tyrant's slave and victim. A man of Aaron Rockharrt's temperament seldom, at the age of seventy-seven, becomes a lover; and never, at any age, a woman's slave. Mr. Fabian now got into the carriage, and sat down on the front cushion opposite his father and step-mother. Mr.
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