CHAPTER VIII.

  STARTLING NEWS.

  Three weeks after Ralph's departure to join his regiment Mrs. Conwayreceived a letter which gave her a great shook. It was from Mrs.Withers, and was as follows:

  "MY DEAR MRS. CONWAY: I have very sad news to tell you. An event has happened which will, I know, be as afflicting to you as it has been to us. Our dear friend Mr. Penfold, who but three weeks ago was so bright and happy with us in London, has passed away suddenly. Up to the day before yesterday he seemed in his usual health; but yesterday morning he did not appear at breakfast, and the servant on going up to his room, found him sitting in a chair by his bedside dead. The bed had not been slept in, and it appears as if before commencing to undress he had been seized with a sudden faintness and had sunk into the chair and died without being able to summon assistance.

  "His death is a terrible shock to us, as it will be to you. My husband and myself have long been aware that our dear friend suffered from disease of the heart, and that the doctor he consulted in London had told him that his death might take place at any moment. At the same time, he had been so bright and cheerful in London, as indeed with us he was at all times, that his death comes almost with as great a surprise to us as if we had not known that he was in danger. Mr. Tallboys, the solicitor of Weymouth who managed Mr. Penfold's affairs, called here last night. The funeral is to take place on Thursday, and had Ralph been in England he said that he should have written to him to come down to it, which he could have done in time had he started immediately he received the letter announcing the event; but as he is over in Ireland, of course nothing can be done.

  "He said that had Ralph come he should have suggested that you also should be present at the reading of the will, but that as matters stand he did not think there was any occasion to trouble you. I should tell you that Mr. Tallboys appeared a good deal worried, and one of his reasons for calling was to ask my husband whether he knew where Mr. Penfold was in the habit of keeping his papers. It seems that upon the day after his return from London Mr. Penfold called upon him and took away his will, saying that he wanted to look over it, as he had two or three slight alterations that he wanted to make, and he would bring it back in the course of a day or two and get him to make the changes required. From that time Mr. Penfold had not been in Weymouth, and, indeed, had scarcely left the house except to come down here; for, as he said to my husband, he did not feel quite himself, and supposed it was a reaction after his late dissipations.

  "Mr. Tallboys, who is one of the executors named in the will, had searched for it in the afternoon among Mr. Penfold's papers; but found that it and several other documents--leases and so on--of importance were all missing. He had asked Miss Penfold if she knew where her brother was in the habit of keeping important papers; but she replied shortly that she knew nothing whatever of her brother's business matters. He had, therefore, driven over to ask my husband, knowing how intimate he had been with poor Herbert. He knew, it seems, that Mr. Penfold had some secure place for such papers, because he had one day spoken to him upon the subject, saying it would be more prudent for him to leave the leases in the strong-box in his office at Weymouth. But Herbert replied that they were stowed away in a far safer place, and that he had not the least fear in the world of their being stolen.

  "Now, this is just what my husband knew also. Once when they were chatting together Herbert mentioned that the house like many other old mansions contained a secret chamber. He said: 'I can't tell you where it is, Withers; for although it is never likely to be used again, the knowledge of this hiding-place has been passed down from generation to generation as a family secret. I gave a solemn promise never to reveal it when I was first informed of its existence; and although in these days there is no occasion to hide priests or conspirators, I do not consider myself released from the promise I gave. Possibly some day the hiding-place may prove of value again. There may be a price set on the head of a Penfold, who can tell? Anyhow it is likely to remain a secret as long as the old house stands; and in the meantime I find it a useful place for keeping things that I do not want lying about.' Mr. Tallboys appeared very vexed at hearing what my husband said.

  "'It is very strange.' he said, 'that sensible men will do such foolish things. It is probable enough that Herbert Penfold has placed this will in the hiding-place you speak of, and in that case I foresee that we shall have no end of trouble. I know you are both aware of the nature of Mr. Penfold's will, and you may be sure that if those sisters of his also know of it--whether they do or not I can't say--they will bitterly resent it. I know enough of the family history to know that. It was evident by Miss Penfold's answer to me to-day that either she does not know the secret of this hiding-place--which is of course possible--or that if she does know she does not mean to say. I should imagine myself that she does know.

  "'Had Herbert Penfold been of age when his father died it is likely enough that he only as head of the family would have been told by his father of its existence; but you see he was but a lad at that time, while the Miss Penfolds were women, and were therefore probably informed of the secret. It is very awkward, extremely awkward. Of course the will may turn up between this and the funeral; but if not I hardly know what steps had best be taken. If those Penfold women have made up their minds that this will shall not see the light they are likely to carry it through to the end. My husband quite agreed with Mr. Tallboys about that, and so do I. I have never been able to abide them, though, as my husband says, they are good women in many respects, and always ready to help in parish matters. Still I can't abide them, nor I am sure have you any reason to do so; for when I and my husband first came here we learned a good deal of the part they had played in a certain matter, and that of course set me altogether against them.

  "Of course, my dear Mrs. Conway, I do not wish to alarm you about the will; still you ought to know how things stand, and my husband this morning asked me to tell you all there was to tell. I hope in a few days to be able to write and give you better news. Things may not be as they fear."

  Mrs. Conway sat for a long time with this letter before her. She hadnot read it straight through, but after glancing at the first fewlines that told of the death of Herbert Penfold she had laid it aside,and it was a long time before she took it up again. He had been thelove of her youth; and although he had seemingly gone for so manyyears out of her life, she knew that when she had found how he had allthis time watched over her and so delicately aided her, and that forher sake he was going to make Ralph his heir, her old feeling had beenrevived. Not that she had any thought that the past would ever return.His letters indeed had shown that he regarded his life as approachingits end; but since the receipt of that letter she had always thoughtof him with a tender affection as one who might have been her husbandhad not either evil fate or malice stepped in to prevent it.

  The fortnight they had spent in London had brought them very closetogether. He had assumed the footing of a brother, but she had feltthat pleasant and kind as he was to all the rest of the party it wasfor her sake alone that this festivity had been arranged. They had hadbut one talk together alone, and she had then said that she hoped theexpressions he had used in his letter to her with reference to hishealth were not altogether justified, for he seemed so bright andwell. He had shaken his head quietly and said:

  "It is just as well that you should know, Mary. I have seen myphysician since I came up to town, and I don't think it will last muchlonger. A little time ago I did not wish it to last, now I should beglad to go on until I can see my little scheme realized; but I amquite sure that it is not to be. Anyhow I am ready to go when I amsummoned, and am happy in the thought that the few people I care forare all in a fair way t
o be happy. Don't cry, dear. I don't want asingle cloud to hang over our memories of this time. I am happier thanI have ever been in my life, and I want you and all of them to be veryhappy too. I have set my mind upon that, and if I see a cloud on yourface it will spoil it all."

  Still in spite of this she had hoped the doctor might have taken toogloomy a view of the case, and that Herbert Penfold's death might yetbe a distant event.

  And now it was all over. Herbert Penfold was dead. The heart that hadbeat so kindly for her was silenced forever. It was then a long timebefore Mrs. Conway recovered sufficiently from her emotion to take upthe letter again. She did so with an air almost of indifference. Shehad learned the news, and doubtless all this long epistle containedmany details of comparatively little interest. But as she read her airof languid grief gave way to an expression of keen interest, and sheskimmed through the last page or two with anxious haste. Then shereread it more slowly and carefully, and then throwing it on the tablestood up and walked up and down the little room.

  So these women, who had as she believed ruined her life and Herbert's,were now going to attack her son and rob him of his rights. Theyshould not do it if she could help it. Never! Mary Vernon had been ahigh-spirited girl, and, although those who had only known her throughher widowhood would have taken her for a gentle and quiet woman, whosethoughts were entirely wrapped up in her boy, the old spirit was aliveyet, as with head thrown back, and an angry flush on her cheeks, shedeclared to herself that she would defend Ralph's rights to the last.How or in what manner she did not ask; she only knew that those whowould defraud him were her old enemies.

  Had it been otherwise the fact that they were Herbert's sisters wouldhave softened her toward them; now that fact only added to thehostility she bore them. They, his nearest relations of blood, hadruined his life; now they would defeat his dying wishes. It should notbe if she could help it. She would fight against it to the last day ofher life. There was of course nothing to be done yet. Nothing untilshe heard again. Nothing until she knew that the discovery of the willwas given up as hopeless. Then it would be time for her to dosomething.

  The thought barely occurred to her that the loss of this will mightmake material difference in her own circumstances, and that theallowance Herbert Penfold had made her, and which he had doubtlessintended she should continue to receive, would cease. That was sosecondary a consideration that it at present gave her no trouble. Itwas of Ralph she thought. Of Ralph and Herbert. Were the plans thatthe latter had made--the plans that had given happiness to the lastyear of the life of him who had known so little happiness--to beshattered? This to her mind was even more than the loss that Ralphwould suffer.

  "They may have destroyed the will," she said at last; "but if not Iwill find it, if it takes me all my life to do so."

  A week later two letters arrived. The one was from Mrs. Withers. Thewill had not been found. Mr. Tallboys had searched in vain. Everycabinet and drawer in the house had been ransacked. No signs whateverhad been found of the will.

  "Mr. Tallboys is perfectly convinced that it must be hidden in somealtogether exceptional place. The will was not a bulky document, andmight have been stowed away in a comparatively small hiding-place,such as a secret drawer in a cabinet; but the leases that are alsomissing are bulky, and would take up so large a space that he isconvinced that had a secret hiding-place sufficiently large to holdthem existed in any of the articles of furniture he has searched heshould have discovered it.

  "Of course, my dear Mrs. Conway, we feel this matter personally, asour Mabel was as you know made joint-heiress with your Ralph ofHerbert's property. We cannot but feel, however, that the loss isgreater in your case than in ours. Mabel was never informed ofHerbert's intentions toward her, and although we should of course havebeen glad to know that our child had such brilliant prospects, theloss of them will not we may hope in any way affect her happiness. Inthe case of your son it is different, and his prospects in life willof course be seriously affected by the loss, and my husband begs me toexpress to you his very deep regret at this.

  "We have talked over your letter together, and while fully sharingyour indignation at the conduct of the Misses Penfold, hardly see thatanything can be done to discover the will. However, should you be ableto point out any manner in which a search for it can be carried on, weshall be happy to do what we can to aid in the matter, as it isclearly our duty to endeavor to obtain for Mabel the fortune HerbertPenfold willed to her. Mr. Tallboys tells us that it is clear theMisses Penfold have quite determined upon their line of conduct.Whatever they may know they have declined altogether to aid him inhis search for the will, Miss Penfold saying, in reply to his requestthat they would do so, that they had every reason to believe from whattheir brother had let fall that the will was an unjust and iniquitousone; that if Providence intended it should see the light it would seeit; but they at least would do nothing in the matter.

  "He asked them plainly if they were aware of the existence of anyplace in which it was likely that their brother had placed it. To thisMiss Penfold, who is, as she has always been, the spokesman of the twosisters, said shortly, that she had never seen the will, that shedidn't want to see it, and that she did not know where her brother hadplaced it; indeed, for aught she knew, he might have torn it up. As tohiding-places, she knew of no hiding-place whose existence she could,in accordance with the dictates of her conscience divulge. So that iswhere we are at present, Mrs. Conway. I believe that Mr. Tallboys isgoing to try and get a copy of the will that he has in his possessionadmitted under the circumstances as proof of Herbert Penfold'sintentions. But he owned to us that he thought it was very doubtfulwhether he should be able to do so, especially as Herbert had statedto him that he intended to make alterations; and it would be quitepossible that a court might take the view that in the first place thealterations might have been so extensive as to affect the wholepurport of the will, and in the second place that he might have cometo the conclusion that it would be easier to make the whole willafresh, and so had destroyed the one he had by him."

  Mrs. Conway laid down the letter, and after thinking for a time openedthe other, which was in a handwriting unknown to her. It began:

  "DEAR MADAM: Mrs. Withers tells me that she has informed you of the singular disappearance of the will of my late client, Mr. Herbert Penfold. I beg to inform you that we shall not let this matter rest, but shall apply to the court to allow the copy of the will to be put in for probate; if that is refused, for authorization to make a closer search of the Hall than we have hitherto been able to do, supporting our demand with affidavits made by the Rev. Mr. Withers and ourselves of our knowledge that, the late Mr. Penfold was accustomed to keep documents in some secret receptacle. In the second place, we are glad to inform you that the annual sum paid by us into the Kentish bank to your credit will not be affected by the loss of the will; for at the time when that payment first commenced, Mr. Penfold signed a deed making this payment a first charge on the rents of two of his farms during your lifetime. This assignment was of a binding character, and of course continues to hold good. We shall consider it our duty to acquaint you from time to time with the course of proceedings in the matter of the late Mr. Penfold's will."

  Little as Mrs. Conway had thought of herself from the time when shefirst heard that the will was missing, the news that her income wouldremain unchanged delighted her. She had formed no plans for herself,but had vaguely contemplated the necessity of giving up her house assoon as it was decided that the will could not be found, selling herfurniture, and for the present taking a small lodging. She was gladthat there would be no occasion for this; but very much more glad thatshe should be able now to make Ralph an allowance of seventy or eightypounds a year, which would make all the difference between his livingcomfortably and being obliged to pinch himself in every way to subsistupon his pay. It would also enable her to carry out without difficultyany plans she might determine upon.

  Upo
n the receipt of the letter announcing Mr. Penfold's death, she hadwritten to Ralph telling him of it, but saying nothing about Mr.Tallboys' visit to the Withers, or his report that he was unable tofind the will. She now wrote to him relating the whole circumstances.He had not previously known Mr. Penfold's intention to make him hisheir, being only told that he intended to push his way in life, andhad considered that the promise was carried out by his obtaining him acommission and arranging some allowance. His mother was glad of thisnow.

  "Of course the loss of Mr. Penfold's will, my boy, will make adifference to you, as there can be no doubt that he had made someprovisions in it for the regular payment of the allowance he had sokindly promised you. This, unless the will is found, you will ofcourse lose. Having been a soldier's daughter, I know that to livecomfortably in the army it is necessary to have something beyond yourpay; but fortunately I can assist you a little. I have now one less tofeed and clothe, and no schooling expenses; and I have beencalculating things up, and find that I can allow you seventy-fivepounds a year without making any difference in the manner of myliving. You will be able to see that for yourself. You need,therefore, feel no hesitation in accepting this allowance.

  "It is not a large one; but I know it will make a very greatdifference in your comfort, and it will be a great pleasure to me toknow that you will be able to enter into what amusements are going onand not to look at every penny. It makes all the difference in theworld whether one has four and sixpence or nine shillings a day tolive upon. You wrote and told me of the handsome present Mr. Penfoldmade you at parting. This, my boy, I should keep if I were you as areserve, only to be touched in case of unexpected difficulties orneeds. No one can ever say when such needs may occur. I hope you willnot pain me by writing to say you don't want this allowance, becausenothing you can say will alter my determination to pay that allowanceregularly every quarter into your agent's hands; and it will be, ofcourse, very much more pleasant to me to know that it is as much apleasure to you to be helped by me as it is to me to help you. I haveheard several times from Mrs. Withers; they are all well, and sheasked me to send their remembrances to you when I write. I do not giveup all hope that the will may be found one of these days, but it isjust as well that we should not build in the slightest upon it."

  Ralph's reply came in due time, that is in about a fortnightafterward; for Mrs. Conway's letter had first to go by coach toLondon, and then a two days' journey by the mail to Liverpool, then bythe sailing packet across to Dublin, and then down to Cork by coach.He had already written expressing his regret at the news of Mr.Penfold's death.

  "My dear mother," he began. "It is awfully good of you to talk aboutmaking an allowance to me. After what you say, of course I cannotthink of refusing it, though I would do so if I thought the paymentwould in the slightest way inconvenience you. But as you say that nowI am away it will make something like that sum difference in yourexpenses, I must of course let you do as you like, and can only thankyou very heartily for it. But I could really have got on very wellwithout it. I fancy that a good many men in the regiment have nothingbut their pay, and as they manage very well there is no reason I couldnot manage too.

  "Of course in war times things are not kept up so expensively as theywere before, and lots of men get commissions who would not have doneso when the army was only half its present size, and was considered asa gentlemanly profession instead of a real fighting machine. However,as you say, it is a great deal more pleasant having nine shilling aday to live on instead of four and sixpence.

  "I am getting on capitally here. Of course there is a lot of drill,and it is as much as I can do not to laugh sometimes, the sergeant,who is a fierce little man, gets into such wild rages over ourblunders.

  "I say our blunders, for of course Stapleton and I are drilled withthe recruits. However, I think that in another week I shall be overthat, and shall then begin to learn my work as an officer. They are ajolly set of fellows here, always up to some fun or other. I alwaysthought when fellows got to be men they were rather serious, but itseems to me that there is ever so much more fun here among them thanthere was at school. Of course newcomers get worried a little just asthey do at school. I got off very well; because, you see, what withschool and the privateer I have learned to take things goodtemperedly, and when fellows see that you are as ready for fun as theyare they soon give up bothering you.

  "Stapleton has had a lot more trouble; because, you see, he will lookat things seriously. I think he is getting a little better now; but heused to get quite mad at first, and of course that made fellows everso much worse. He would find his door screwed up when he went backafter mess; and as soon as they found that he was awfully particularabout his boots, they filled them all full of water one night. Thensome one got a ladder and threw a lot of crackers into his bedroom inthe middle of the night, and Stapleton came rushing down in hisnight-shirt with his sword drawn, swearing he would kill somebody.

  "Of course I have done all I can to get them to leave him alone, forhe is really a good fellow, and explained to them that he had neverbeen to school, or had a chance of learning to keep his temper. But heis getting on now, and will, I think, soon be left alone. This hasbeen an awfully long letter, and there is only just enough candle leftfor me to get into bed by. Anyhow mother, I am not a bit upset aboutlosing Mr. Penfold's allowance; so don't you worry yourself at allabout that."

  Some weeks passed on. Mr. Tallboys wrote that he had failed to inducethe court to accept the copy of the will, the admission he was forcedto make that Mr. Penfold had intended to make an alteration in itbeing fatal. He had, however, obtained an order authorizing himthoroughly to search the house, and to take down any wainscotting, andto pull up any floors that might appear likely to conceal ahiding-place. A fortnight later he wrote again to announce hisfailure.

  "The Miss Penfolds," he said, "were so indignant that they left thehouse altogether, and you may believe that we ransacked it from top tobottom. I had four carpenters and two masons with me, and I think wetapped every square foot of wall in the house, took down thewainscotting wherever there was the slightest hollow sound, liftedlots of the flooring, and even wrenched up several of thehearthstones, but could find nothing whatever, except that there was astaircase leading from behind the wainscotting in Mr. Penfold's roomto a door covered with ivy, and concealed from view by bushes to theleft of the house; but the ivy had evidently been undisturbed forfifty years or so, this passage, even if known to Mr. Penfold, hadcertainly not been used in his time.

  "I truly regret, my dear madam, that the search should have been sounsuccessful, and can only say, that all that could be done has beendone. That the will is concealed somewhere I have not a shadow ofdoubt, unless, of course, it has been torn up before this. As to thatI give no opinion; and, indeed, as it is a matter in which women areconcerned, your judgment as to the probabilities is much more likelyto be correct than mine. As I expected, my business connection withthe family has come to an end. The Miss Penfolds have appointedanother agent, who has written to me requesting me to hand over allpapers connected with the property. This, of course, I shall do. Ineed hardly say that in no case could I have consented to act forthose whom I consider to be unlawful possessors of the property. Inconclusion, I can only say that my services will at all times be atyour disposal."

  Mrs. Conway was scarcely disappointed at the receipt of this letter,for she had quite made up her mind that the will would not be found.These women had clearly made up their minds to deprive Ralph and Mabelof their rights, and unless they had felt perfectly satisfied that nosearch would discover the hiding-place of the will, they would notimprobably have taken it, and either destroyed it or concealed it insome fresh place where the searchers would never be likely to look forit. She did not think it likely, therefore, that the hiding-placewould be discovered, and she felt assured that were it discovered itwould be found empty.

  "Very well," she said, in a quiet, determined voice, as she laid downthe letter. "Mr. Tallboys has failed. Now,
I shall take up the matter.I dare say you think that you have won, Miss Penfold; that you are nowmistress beyond dispute of Herbert's property. You will see the battlehas only just begun. It will last, I can tell you, all your lives ormine."

  A week later an altogether unexpected event took place. When Mr. andMrs. Withers were at breakfast a letter arrived from Mr. Littleton,now solicitor to the Miss Penfolds. Upon opening it it was found tocontain an offer upon the part of the Miss Penfolds to settle the sumof a hundred a year for life upon Mabel, upon the condition only thatthe allowance would be stopped upon her marriage, unless that marriagereceived the approval, in writing, of the Miss Penfolds. The letterwas addressed to Mr. Withers, and after reading it through he passedit to his wife without a word. She was too surprised to say anythingfor a moment, especially as Mabel was in the room, and she laid theletter beside her until breakfast was over and Mabel had gone out.

  "Well, James, what do you think of it?" she asked.

  "What do you think of it yourself?" he replied.

  Mrs. Withers hesitated, and then said: "Well, James, it is a sort ofthing that requires so much thinking about that I have scarcely hadtime to turn it over in my mind yet, especially with Mabel thereeating her breakfast opposite, and having no idea that this lettercontained anything of such importance to her. I would really ratherhear what you think about it." Mr. Withers remained silent, and shewent on: "Of course it would be a very nice thing for Mabel to havesuch a provision for life."

  A slight smile passed across Mr. Withers' face, and his wife saw thatthat was not at all the way in which he looked at it.

  "That is just like you men, James," she said a little pettishly. "Youask us what we think about things when you have perfectly made up yourminds what you mean to do, whether we agree with you or not."

  "I don't think that's often the case with us. Still I did want to seewhether the matter would have struck you at once in the same light inwhich I see it, and I perceive that it has not."

  "Well, James, let me hear your view of the matter. I dare say I shallagree with you when you tell me what it is."

  "Well, then, Amy," Mr. Withers said seriously, "it appears to me thatwe cannot accept this offer for Mabel."

  Mrs. Withers looked a little blank. The living was not a rich one, andassured as they had been by Mr. Penfold that he intended to providefor Mabel, they had not endeavored to lay by anything for her, and hadfreely dispensed their surplus income among the sick and needy of theparish. The disappearance of the will had disappointed their hopes,and raised many anxious thoughts in Mrs. Withers' mind respectingMabel's future, and the offer contained in the letter had thereforefilled her with pleasure. But she greatly valued her husband'sjudgment, and therefore only replied:

  "Why, dear?"

  "Well, you see, wife, we are both thoroughly agreed that these ladiesare depriving Mabel of the fortune Herbert Penfold left her. They areconcealing or have destroyed his will, and are at present in what wemay call fraudulent possession of his property. Now, I do not thinkthat under these circumstances we can accept a favor at their hands.To do so would be practically to acquiesce in what we consider therobbery of our child, and the acceptance would of course involve arenewal of friendly relations with them; a thing which, believing aswe do that they are acting wickedly would be distasteful in theextreme, not to say impossible."

  "Of course you are right, dear," Mrs. Withers said, rising from herseat and going over and kissing her husband tenderly. "I had notthought of it in that light at all. In fact I had hardly thought aboutit at all, except that it would be nice to see Mabel provided for."

  "It would be nice, my dear. But we surely need not be anxious abouther. We may hope that she will make a happy marriage. We may hope toothat we may be spared long enough to make some provision for her, for,of course, we must now curtail our expenses and lay by as much as wecan for her. Lastly, dear, we need not be anxious; because we trustthat God will provide for her should we not be enabled to do so. Buteven were I sure that we should both be taken together, I would ratherleave her in His hands than accept money wrongfully obtained andcondone an abominable action. There is, too, another point from whichthe matter should be looked at. You see this curious condition thatthey propose, that the annuity shall be forfeited unless she marrywith their sanction. Why should they propose such a condition?"

  "I am sure I don't know, James; for of course, we should never giveour sanction to her marriage unless we approved of her choice, andsurely the Miss Penfolds would not disapprove of a choice that weapproved of?"

  "Well, they might, my dear. You know how bitterly they disliked RalphConway, and how they resented his being at the Hall. It is quitepossible they may have had some idea of Herbert's views about him andMabel, and are determined that he shall not benefit through Mabel byone penny of their brother's property; and this clause is speciallydesigned so that in case the two young people ever should cometogether they may be able if not to stop it--at any rate to stop theannuity. That is the only interpretation I can give to thiscondition."

  "Very likely that is so James. Really these women seem to get moredetestable every day."

  Mr. Withers smiled at his wife's vehemence. "There is still anotherreason why we cannot take the money. Ralph Conway has been as muchdefrauded as Mabel, and his mother, as you see by her letters, isdetermined not to sit down quietly under the wrong. What she means todo I have not the slightest idea, nor do I think that there is themost remote probability she will ever succeed in finding the will.Tallboys appears to have made a most thorough search of the house, anddo what she will she cannot have any opportunity of searching as hehas done. Still she clearly has something on her mind. She intends tomake some attempt or other to discover the will, which, if found, willbenefit Mabel equally with her son. Therefore we cannot but regard heras our friend and ally. Now, were we to accept the money for Mabel weshould in fact be acquiescing, not only in the wrong done to her butin that done to Ralph. We should, in fact, be going over to the enemy.We could not take their money and even tacitly connive in her effortsto find the will."

  "I agree with you entirely, James. It would be impossible; only I dowish you had said all this before letting me be so foolish as to saythat I thought we ought to take it."

  "You didn't say so, dear," Mr. Withers said smiling. "You only gaveexpression to the first natural thought of a mother that it would be anice thing for Mabel. You had given the matter no furtherconsideration than that, and I was quite sure that as soon as youthought the matter over you would see it in the same light that I do.But I think that before we send off our reply we should put the matterbefore Mabel herself. I have no doubt whatever what her answer willbe, but at the same time she ought to know of the offer which has beenmade to her."