And then he told
me that if I was fond of swamp lilies I might have all I wanted at his
place, and for the matter of that the place too, as he was going away,
for he couldn't stand the loneliness any longer. He said that he had
nothing in common with the place and the people--no more than I had--and
that was what he had always fancied in me. I told him that if he felt
in that way about his place he ought to leave it, or sell it to some one
who cared for it, and go away. That must have been in his mind when he
offered it to you,--at least that's what I thought when you told us you
had bought it. I didn't know but what he might have told you, but you
didn't care to say it before mother."
Mr. Harcourt sat gazing at her with breathless amazement. "And
you--think that--'Lige Curtis--lov--liked you?"
"Yes, I think he did--and that he does now!"
"NOW! What do you mean? The man is dead!" said Harcourt starting.
"That's just what I don't believe."
"Impossible! Think of what you are saying."
"I never could quite understand or feel that he was dead when everybody
said so, and now that I've heard this story I KNOW that he is living."
"But why did he not make himself known in time to claim the property?"
"Because he did not care for it."
"What did he care for, then?"
"Me, I suppose."
"But this calumny is not like a man who loves you."
"It is like a JEALOUS one.
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