Regret Beyond Measure

The village chief looked at Helen Parker and Grandma Evans, unsure whether to laugh or cry at their ridiculous behavior. Thinking that these two were his own villagers, he felt so embarrassed he wished he could hide his face.

Helen Parker and Grandma Evans each grabbed the young man from one side, dragging him home. But after a few steps, the boy spotted Arthur Evans and his wife. He let out a wail, broke free from Helen Parker and Grandma Evans with all his strength, and dashed toward Arthur Evans and his wife, shouting, "Sir! Madam! Help me! These two lunatics want to tie me up and take me to their house—I'm scared to death!"

As he spoke, the boy quickly knelt down to Arthur Evans and his wife, kowtowing in greeting. Then, like a startled rabbit, he darted behind Arthur Evans, clutching his chest, looking thoroughly shaken.

Arthur Evans looked at the boy hiding behind him, torn between laughter and exasperation. He asked, "Eugene Warren, where's your father?"

Eugene Warren shrank his head, glancing nervously at Helen Parker and Grandma Evans, afraid they might grab him again. Only then did he reply, "Sir, my father's old leg injury flared up on the road. He's in too much pain to walk, so he's staying at the inn in Greenfield City. He was worried you'd be anxious waiting, so he told me to come ahead. He'll be here tomorrow."

Helen Parker and Grandma Evans exchanged bewildered looks, stunned. Why was Mr. Warren calling the useless Arthur Evans and his wife 'Sir' and 'Madam' after the Evans family drove them out?

"Mr. Warren, are you sure you’ve got the right people? That man is Arthur Evans!" Grandma Evans stared wide-eyed at Eugene Warren.

Eugene Warren was truly terrified of the rowdy old lady. He shrank back behind Arthur Evans and said, "Grandma, I think you’re the one who’s confused! I was born into Mr. Warren’s household and bear his surname. My father is the Warren family steward, and I’ve served Mr. Warren and Madam since I was a child. How could I possibly mistake them for someone else?"

Eugene Warren’s father was the steward of the Warren family, and Eugene himself was clever and capable—the designated next steward. In the Warren household, everyone called his father Mr. Warren Sr., and Eugene was known as Young Steward Warren.

"What!?" Helen Parker’s face turned red and then pale. She tugged Grandma Evans aside and whispered, "Mother, what’s going on here?! How could Arthur Evans be Mr. Warren? Wait, what were his adoptive parents’ surnames? We’ve always called him Arthur Evans, but who knows what name he uses outside!"

Grandma Evans looked dazed, thinking hard before replying, "Helen, I remember now. When we took Arthur in years ago, his adoptive parents were peddlers, and I think the husband’s surname really was Warren…"

"What! Mother, you’re saying Arthur Evans’s real surname is Warren? Could he actually be that mysterious Mr. Warren building the mansion at the edge of the village?" Helen Parker was utterly stunned, her eyes wide, unable to believe the man they’d cheated out of his silver and driven away was actually the fabulously wealthy Mr. Warren—richer than anyone else in the Evans family!

Grandma Evans panicked and whispered, "How would I know? Why would I ask about things like that! Arthur never said anything about his life outside the village. We’ve always called him Arthur Evans—who knows what his real name is!"

While Grandma Evans and Helen Parker muttered to each other with their heads down, Eugene Warren was all smiles at seeing Mr. Warren and Madam. He called the coachman over, had the carriage brought around, and respectfully invited Arthur Evans and his wife to board.

Once Madam was settled in the carriage, Eugene Warren didn’t get in, instead taking a seat up front with the coachman to drive.

Watching the carriage sway off toward the Evans family home, Grandma Evans stared after it, gripping Helen Parker’s arm tightly. "Helen, is Arthur really Mr. Warren?"

Helen Parker was in utter disbelief, her eyes blank as she stared into the distance, regretting it so much she could hardly breathe. She muttered, "Mother, Arthur really might be Mr. Warren. It’s true—he’s a wealthy man. How could we have driven a rich man out of our family and cut ties with him? I really regret it!"