But this fear vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, for he
kept saying to himself: "A judge of the County Court wants her at
twelve dollars a month; hadn't I better bid high an' git settled?
"If you'd like to have a home o' your own 'thout payin' rent,
you've only got to say the word an' I'll make you Mis' Baxter,"
said the Deacon. "There'll be nobody to interfere with you, an' a
handsome legacy if I die first; for none o' my few savin's is
goin' to my daughters, I can promise you that!"
The Deacon threw out this tempting bait advisedly, for at this
moment he would have poured his hoard into the lap of any woman
who would help him to avenge his fancied wrongs.
This was information, indeed! The "few savings" alluded to
amounted to some thousands, Jane Tillman knew. Had she not better
burn her ships behind her, take the risks, and have faith in her
own powers? She was getting along in ears, and her charms of
person were lessening with every day that passed over her head.
If the Deacon's queer ways grew too queer, she thought an appeal
to the doctor and the minister might provide a way of escape and
a neat little income to boot; so, on the whole, the marriage,
though much against her natural inclinations, seemed to be
providentially arranged.
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