Signing the Contract, and What It Cost. Finley Martha

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      “No, I’ll take back that request,” said the elder gentleman. “Leave her to me; that’s all I ask.”

      “I shall not try to influence her one way or the other,” said Espy. “But, father, be patient with her if she can’t see things just as you do. She’s almost heart-broken already, poor child!”

      This conversation had taken place at the breakfast-table, and immediately on the conclusion of the meal Espy hastened to Floy to learn how she was in health, determined to save her from an encounter with his father until she felt quite equal to it.

      He found her free from pain, calm and quiet in manner, though with an expression of deep sadness in her large dark eyes and about the lines of her mobile mouth. She was strangely changed from the careless, light-hearted creature of a week ago. Sorrow and bereavement had done the work of years, and the child of yesterday had become a self-poised, self-reliant woman.

      She had spent some hours that morning in earnest thought, asking wisdom and strength from Him who has declared Himself in a peculiar sense the “Father of the fatherless,” and in searching His Word for direction; and now her mind was fully made up.

      Espy told her of his father’s intended call, and asked if she would see him, adding, “Don’t hesitate to decline, Floy. You can guess his errand.”

      “Yes,” she said, sighing slightly, “and I cannot follow his wishes, because it would be doing violence to my conscience. But I will hear all he has to say. Ah,” she added, tears filling her eyes, “it is hard to be compelled to do what vexes and angers those you love and would fain please rather than yourself! Espy, will you turn against me?”

      “Never, never, my poor child! I will stand by you through everything.”

      The door opened, and the elder Mr. Alden came in.

      “Ah, good-morning, my dear child,” he said, taking Floy’s hand. “Glad to see you about again! should have been here before, but Espy insisted that you were better let alone.”

      “Thank you,” she said. “Please be seated.”

      He was not long in introducing the real object of his visit, but approached the subject with more caution than before. He spoke of Mr. Kemper’s great fondness for her and his fatherly pride in her, and the determination he had been frequently heard to express, that if he could prevent it his darling should never know what it was to want for the comforts and even luxuries of life.

      “Yes,” murmured Floy, the tears stealing down her pale cheeks, “father loved me very dearly, and was always tenderly careful of me.”

      “And can you believe that he would want the property he accumulated to be enjoyed by some one else, and you left to struggle with poverty?” asked Mr. Alden.

      “No; oh no, no!”

      “Ah!” There was a world of meaning in the slight exclamation. It said, “So you are coming to your senses at last! you see now that I was right, and I’m delighted that such is the case.”

      “Do not mistake me, Mr. Alden,” said the girl, sighing. “I am certain father would have preferred to leave me well provided for, but he may have finally concluded that it would be more just to leave his property to those who were related to him by ties of blood.”

      Emotion stopped her utterance; she had not yet learned to think and speak calmly of the fact that there was no natural tie between herself and those who had been as the dearest of parents to her.

      “Nonsense!” was the angry exclamation that rose to Mr. Alden’s lips; but checking himself, he said in a tone of mild expostulation, “I am sure, my dear child, you need not trouble yourself with any such fears. He made every cent of his money, and certainly had a perfect right to leave it as he pleased. And there is not the least doubt in my mind that you would be following out his wishes in retaining possession of it. Indeed I think it would be very wrong as well as foolish to do otherwise.”

      “Why wrong?”

      “Because it would be disposing of his property as he would not have wished it to be disposed of.”

      “Ah, Mr. Alden, suppose you were his next of kin, would you not see this matter differently?”

      “Well—possibly our own interests are very apt to blind us to the rights of others.”

      Floy smiled faintly, thinking how nearly akin to a man’s own interest was that of his son.

      “Yes,” she said, “that is human nature; we are naturally selfish, I as well as others; so much so that if I knew the property was lawfully mine I should never think of giving it away.”

      “Then don’t.”

      “Ah, it is not mine to give or to keep, but must go to the rightful heirs.”

      Mr. Alden bit his lips with vexation, rose and paced the room for some moments; then, having recovered control of himself, came and sat down by Floy.

      “I know you want to do right,” he said pleasantly, “and I have only to convince you that the course I wish you to take is right to induce you to take it.”

      “I cannot tell you how gladly I should do so,” she answered.

      At this moment Espy, who had taken no part in the conversation, though a deeply interested listener, was, much to his discontent, summoned away by a message from his mother.

      Mr. Alden did most of the talking for the next hour, going over the old arguments again and again, but bringing forward little that was new except that Mr. and Mrs. Kemper, in adopting her as their own child, had given her all the rights of a child, and therefore, will or no will, she was the proper heir.

      “Is that according to the law of the land?” she asked, a gleam of hope shining in her eyes.

      He evaded the question. “Human laws are very faulty; we need not always be bound by them.”

      “No, not when they come in collision with the higher law of God; but that is not the case in this instance.”

      After a moment’s thought and stroking of his beard, he began on another tack, speaking of Espy and his plans, and dwelling at considerable length upon the great advantage it would be to the young man if his wife had sufficient means to give him a start in life.

      Floy heard him to the end in unbroken silence, her hands tightly clasped in her lap, a look of pain more than once crossing her features, while the color came and went on her cheek.

      He seemed to have finished, but she neither moved nor spoke.

      “Well,” he said, rising and taking up his hat from the table where he had placed it on entering, “I’ll leave you to think it all over. Good-morning!”

      “Stay!” she said, suddenly rising and standing before him, her hands still clasped, a look of anguish in her eyes as she lifted them to his, her voice tremulous with emotion, not from any faltering of purpose. “I need no further time for deliberation. I have thought and prayed over this matter, and my duty has been made very clear to me. Right and justice must be done, at whatever cost to me or to—”

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