“What’s the date of Sir John’s will?”
“September, 1900.”
“When did Lady Stableford make her will?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you off-hand. I’ll send you word.”
“No, I’ll come round now.”
Together the two men went to the offices of Messrs. Rellingham, Baxter, Marston & Moorhouse, and Marston turned up the letter-books. “Here you are, Tempest. Lady Stableford must have written, because here, you see, Sir John writes, suggesting Lady Stableford should reconsider her suggestion, and pointing out that going on the stage is not necessarily an abandonment of all morality. Then here’s the next letter in which he sends the will for execution, and again refers to the injustice of leaving the girl penniless, after having brought her up to regard herself as heir. That’s the end of July, 1900.”
“And then Sir John, evidently knowing that Evangeline was cut off with a shilling, I suppose by Lady Stableford, a month or more later creates this secret trust. The thing is self-evident.”
“That may be so, Tempest; but some six months before Sir John died, Lady Stableford and Evangeline were reconciled, and the old lady made another will, by which the girl would have got nearly everything. I remember that will, for I drafted it. Now, Sir John never altered his will or cancelled the secret trust which then became unnecessary, if your theory were right.”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter. He very likely thought it quite probable Lady Stableford might possibly change her mind again.”
“Well, granted it’s all as you say—granted Evangeline was Sir John’s daughter, what’s it all come to?”