Cora was surprised into the first laugh she had had in two years. But the mirth was very short-lived. It came and passed in an instant, and then a pang of remorse seized her heart that she could have laughed at all. She was thinking of her lost Rule, and of her own guilty share in his tragic fate. If she had not let her fancy and imagination become so dazzled by the rank and splendor of the British suitor as to blind her heart and mind for a season, as to make her think and believe that she really loved this new man, and that she had never loved, and could never love, Ruth Rothsay, though she must keep her engagement with him and marry him--had she not broken down and given way to her emotions on that fatal evening of their wedding day--then Rule would never have made his great renunciation for her sake--would never have wandered away into the wilderness to meet his death from murderous hands. How could she ever laugh again? she asked herself.
"What is the matter with you, dear?" inquired Rose, surprised at the sudden change in Cora.
But before she could be answered the door opened and old Aaron Rockharrt came in, looking weary and careworn.
"How have you amused yourselves to-day?" he inquired of the two young women.
Cora was slow to speak, but Rose answered discreetly:
"I do not think we either of us did much but loll around and rest from our journey."
"No; I did not care to do so; nor did Cora, I believe."
Dinner was served. Afterward the evening passed stupidly.
Aaron Rockharrt sat in the large arm chair and slept. Cora, looking at him, thought he was aging fast.
As soon as he waked up he bade his companions good night and went to his apartment. The two others soon followed his example.
As this day passed, so passed the succeeding days of their sojourn in the city.
Mr. Rockharrt went out every morning on business connected with that great scheme which was going to quadruple his already enormous wealth. He came home every evening quite worn out, and after dinner sat and dozed in his chair until bedtime.
Cora watched him anxiously and wondered at him. He was aging fast. She could see that in his whole appearance. But what a strange infatuation for a man of seventy-seven, possessed already of almost fabulous wealth, to be as hotly in pursuit of money as if he were some poor youth with his fortune still to make! And what, after all, could he do with so much more money? Why could he not retire on his vast riches, and rest from his labors, leaving his two stalwart sons to carry on his business, and so live longer? Cora mournfully asked herself.