[The Treasure of Heaven by Marie Corelli]@TWC D-Link book
The Treasure of Heaven

CHAPTER VIII
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He took a peculiar pleasure in reflecting as to what he could do to make these men, with whom he had casually foregathered, happier?
Did it lie in his power to give them any greater satisfaction than that which they already possessed?
He doubted whether a present of money to Matt Peke, for instance, would not offend that rustic philosopher, more than it would gratify him;--while, as for Tom o' the Gleam, that handsome ruffian was more likely to rob a man of gold than accept it as a gift from him.

Then involuntarily, his thoughts reverted to the "kiddie." He recalled the look in Tom's wild eyes, and the almost womanish tremble of tenderness in his rough voice, when he had spoken of this little child of his on whom he openly admitted he had set all his love.
"I should like," mused Helmsley, "to see that kiddie! Not that I believe in the apparent promise of a child's life,--for my own sons taught me the folly of indulging in any hopes on that score--and Lucy Sorrel has completed the painful lesson.

Who would have ever thought that she,--the little angel creature who seemed too lovely and innocent for this world at ten,--could at twenty have become the extremely commonplace and practical woman she is,--practical enough to wish to marry an old man for his money! But that talk among the men last night about the 'kiddie' touched me somehow,--I fancy it must be a sturdy little lad, with a bright face and a will of its own.

I might possibly do something for the child if,--if its father would let me! And that's very doubtful! Besides, should I not be interfering with the wiser and healthier dispensations of nature?
The 'kiddie' is no doubt perfectly happy in its wild state of life,--free to roam the woods and fields, with every chance of building up a strong and vigorous constitution in the simple open-air existence to which it has been born and bred.

All the riches in the world could not make health or freedom for it,--and thus again I confront myself with my own weary problem--Why have I toiled all my life to make money, merely to find money so useless and comfortless at the end ?" With a sigh he rose from the table.


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