"Yes—"
"How did it come about?"
"I hardly know. There was a difference from the first. Not in herself! Evelyn could not be fickle. But I suppose people may draw back on principle. She told me plainly that it had to be so. She said it was for his sake—to honour his memory. She will not hear a word said about General Villiers that sounds like blame. Not even about the will."
Jem made a sound of inquiry.
"Have you not heard?"
"I have heard nothing. Your father sent six lines, and nobody else wrote."
"I didn't know how much I ought to say. Everything is left to Evelyn for her lifetime; but only so long as she does not marry again. If she marries, she loses the whole. There would be a little annuity of something under two hundred pounds, and that is all. Doesn't it seem odd? As if General Villiers had wanted to keep her from marrying!—And she so young and so sweet! If he really loved her, would he not want her to be happy?"
"The best of men are not perfect, Jean!"—in muffled under-tone.
"No, not perfect—but—Everybody is talking and wondering. And Evelyn will only say that he was right. She says he has provided for her lifetime, because she could never dream of marrying again. My father smiles about that; but I am sure she means it."
"She may—" and a pause.