As he spoke the name, half scornfully, half indifferently, a visible
change came over his tool and puppet. His face became paler, if that
were possible, his head seemed to drop, his whole figure was expressive
of deepest dejection, fear, supplication.
"Well, sir, quite well, and deeply grateful for your kindness," he said,
wetting his dry lips.
"Ah! and so she should be, young hussey. A fine thing for her. Married
and respectable. If that soft-hearted, simple little husband of hers
knew all I know! Strange that I should have dropped on to her and that
first lover of hers down in that quiet place. Strange, wasn't it? Now I
daresay they thought they were as safe as at the bottom of the sea.
Didn't think that Mr. Jasper Vermont, a friend of the family, could be
staying at the same hotel. He ought to have married her, of course.
Better that he didn't, eh? Yet that weak, amiable grocer, innocent and
unsuspecting, lets her have it all her own way, and believes her just a
little purer and whiter than the angels. Clever little thing, Lucy.
Makes him think she loves him, I daresay."
"My poor child loves her husband better than her own life, sir,"
breathed the father. "She is so happy, they love each other so, and she
is my own flesh and blood. Forget that accursed night and the devil that
led her astray. Forget that she is anything but the wife of an honest
man. Have mercy on her, sir."
"Well, Harker, I will; I am all mercy. Do your duty by me and I won't go
down to tell the story of that night to Lucy's good, trusting husband.
But don't ask me to forget, my good fellow, for that's folly. I never
forget!"
"Thank you, sir, thank you," Harker said, wiping the perspiration from
his brow. "I will do my duty and work day and night in your interests,
if you will only spare my child and keep others from knowing of that one
false step."
Mr. Jasper Vermont leaned back in his chair, and regarded his servant's
agitation with quiet amusement for a few minutes; then he gathered all
the papers together, put them away in his desk, and dismissed Mr. Harker
with a nod, saying: "You can go now. Don't forget the Leroy paper, renew Beaumont, but sell
up that artist scamp to the last stick and stone. Parasites can bite as
well as cling, Mr. Wilson."