Читать книгу The Daughter of a Soldier: A Colleen of South Ireland онлайн

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On this special night something induced Constance O'Brien to go up to her husband's bedroom. He was dropping asleep as she bounced in.

"Well, old man," she said, "you may as well know the truth. Your own money, all your insurances, in fact, every penny you possess, will go to your children and to no one else at your death, be it to-day or be it to-morrow. This is owing to your marriage settlement. It is well I have money of my own. Murphy astonished me by telling me that there would be altogether about ten thousand pounds, including, of course, your private means, to divide among your three children. It is as well I have my own drop, which is a trifle more than that. Let me tell you, Patrick—take it as a night-cap—that you have behaved in the most disgraceful way to me; but, anyhow, I have the pleasure of informing you that you cannot touch one penny for Maureen. Yes, I have that pleasure, little spiteful interloper. I never could abide her."

"Good-night, Constance," said Patrick O'Brien, "and try, my wife, to keep your heart from hard thoughts. For, believe me, when you come to stand where I now stand—on the edge of the world—you will be glad, very glad, that you have done so."