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He felt he must protect that distant, strange woman from Lans in his present mood. "Then I reckon you better stand off and watch unseen, Lans." Sandy made a bold stroke: "Are you thinking of her only? I'm mighty sure, Treadwell, in a case like this you ought not, you dare not think of any one but her!" The bald, rigid reasoning struck Lans Treadwell like the cold draught from the open window.
The child in the girl was flattered, amused and uplifted by Lans Treadwell. He was so gay, so captivating. He taught her to play on Marcia Lowe's mandolin, and when he discovered how splendidly and sweetly she could sing the plaintive songs of her hills and the melodies of the old plantation days, he was enraptured and gave such praise as turned Cynthia's head and filled Marcia Lowe with delight.
Cynthia did not know much about humanity and Lans never said he loved her but it came upon the girl all at once one day that she she, little Cynthia Walden, was needed, desperately, sufferingly needed by a great-souled man to help in saving Lost Hollow! How magnificent!
And after Lans departed, Sandy thought, he would try to know more of the hideous uncertainty; seek to find out what ground there was for the doubt. In rebuilding Stoneledge, he must do more he must try to take the blight from the old name. "But suppose" and at that Sandy raised his head "more glory in the end and more need to win Cynthia to him!"
No doubt arose as to his right in sharing Sandy's home, but as time went on he did, as all weak and vacillating natures do, resent young Morley's strength of character, simplicity and capacity for winning to himself that which Lans felt belonged to him by inherent justice.
The little woman struggling with her problem up North came to Sandy's mind. She had not been able to keep up the fight; she had followed Lans and but no! If there had been a wedding then the husband must have died! Sandy looked puzzled. "If it was the best, the only way, old man," he said, "I don't see why you should take it this fashion. You loved her; you cannot have changed in so short a time."
If Morley could put a factory up and hope for success, Lans wanted to see the workings of a similar business already on the ground. So, during listless hours, the young man frequented Crothers' neighbourhood, ate at Crothers' boarding-house, and drank with him at The Forge hotel. Not looking for any shortcomings, Lans did not observe them.
Olive Treadwell wrote: I'm mighty glad to say something about this affair to some one who can understand me. Imagine my feelings when, out of the blue, as one might say, Lans brought this girl home and said, "I'm going to leave her with you, Aunt Olive, until I can see my way clear. I am brother to her and she is sister to me until the way's made plain."
"You are my wife!" Again the fierceness, "you must and shall come first." "No, Lans; I am not your wife!" And with this Cynthia stood up and clasped her hands close. "Every law in the land says you are!" Treadwell flung his head back and faced her; "this is a hideous tangle, but above all through all you are my wife!" "I do not know, I cannot make you feel how I see it but I am not your wife!
Just how to take this Olive Treadwell did not know. She was distracted. She felt that Markham was playing with her! Perhaps he knew all about Morley's escapades and preferred them to Lans' newer ideals. "You will investigate for yourself?" she pleaded; "in justice to Lans?" "In my own way, Madam." "You mean " "That I will look to my own interests as I always have.
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