But what those thoughts were did not long remain in doubt. Dimmer and dimmer grew the vision of the distant sailor face, clearer and clearer the image of the vast palace, of the queenly power, of the diamonds, the gold, the ambitious future. It all lay at her feet, waiting to be picked up. How could she have hesitated, even for a moment? She rose, and, walking over to her desk, she took out a sheet of paper and an envelope. The latter she addressed to Lieutenant Spurling, H.M.S. _Active_, Gibraltar. The note cost some little trouble, but at last she got it worded to her mind.
"Dear Hector," she said--"I am convinced that your father has never entirely approved of our engagement, otherwise he would not have thrown obstacles in the way of our marriage. I am sure, too, that since my poor father's misfortune it is only your own sense of honour and feeling of duty which have kept you true to me, and that you would have done infinitely better had you never seen me. I cannot bear, Hector, to allow you to imperil your future for my sake, and I have determined, after thinking well over the matter, to release you from our boy and girl engagement, so that you may be entirely free in every way. It is possible that you may think it unkind of me to do this now, but I am quite sure, dear Hector, that when you are an admiral and a very distinguished man, you will look back at this, and you will see that I have been a true friend to you, and have prevented you from making a false step early in your career. For myself, whether I marry or not, I have determined to devote the remainder of my life to trying to do good, and to leaving the world happier than I found it. Your father is very well, and gave us a capital sermon last Sunday. I enclose the bank-note which you asked me to keep for you. Good-bye, for ever, dear Hector, and believe me when I say that, come what may, I am ever your true friend,
"Laura S. McIntyre."
She had hardly sealed her letter before her father and Robert returned. She closed the door behind them, and made them a little curtsey.
"I await my family's congratulations," she said, with her head in the air. "Mr. Raffles Haw has been here, and he has asked me to be his wife."
"The deuce he did!" cried the old man. "And you said--?"
"I am to see him again."
"And you will say--?"
"I will accept him."
"You were always a good girl, Laura," said old McIntyre, standing on his tiptoes to kiss her.
"But Laura, Laura, how about Hector?" asked Robert in mild remonstrance.
"Oh, I have written to him," his sister answered carelessly. "I wish you would be good enough to post the letter."
CHAPTER X.
THE GREAT SECRET.
And so Laura McIntyre became duly engaged to Raffles Haw, and old McIntyre grew even more hungry-looking as he felt himself a step nearer to the source of wealth, while Robert thought less of work than ever, and never gave as much as a thought to the great canvas which still stood, dust-covered, upon his easel. Haw gave Laura an engagement ring of old gold, with a great blazing diamond bulging out of it. There was little talk about the matter, however, for it was Haw's wish that all should be done very quietly. Nearly all his evenings were spent at Elmdene, where he and Laura would build up the most colossal schemes of philanthropy for the future. With a map stretched out on the table in front of them, these two young people would, as it were, hover over the world, planning, devising, and improving.
"Bless the girl!" said old McIntyre to his son; "she speaks about it as if she were born to millions. Maybe, when once she is married, she won't be so ready to chuck her money into every mad scheme that her husband can think of."
"Laura is greatly changed," Robert answered; "she has grown much more serious in her ideas."
"You wait a bit!" sniggered his father. "She is a good girl, is Laura, and she knows what she is about.