"It gives me inexpressible pleasure," interrupted Felix, "to hear you say so."
"--That I have, with somewhat of a cowardly feeling, often restrained myself from speaking to you on the subject which was referred to by your father on the day I buried my daughter."
"Pray, sir—"
"Nay," interposed Old Wheels gently and firmly, "this conversation cannot be avoided, and we must speak plainly. Consider the position in which we stand to one another, and ask yourself whether, if you were in my place, you would not feel it due to yourself to act as I am doing. If you remember, you came into your father's room while we were speaking of a matter in which you were pecuniarily interested. Doubtless you were well acquainted with all the particulars of the affair."
"No, sir," exclaimed Felix, eagerly, "I knew comparatively nothing. But a few minutes before your arrival upon your sad mission, my father and I were speaking upon business matters--for the first and only time. I had been away from home nearly all my life, and all the expense of my education and living were borne by an uncle from whom I supposed I had expectations. He died suddenly, and I returned home, possessing certain ideas and certain habits not pleasing to my father. The day on which you came to the rectory was appointed by my father for our business interview, and then I learned that my uncle had not left any property, and that I was not to come into the magnificent fortune my father had anticipated for me. This did not affect me, and all that I knew of the matter you have referred to was that my uncle had left behind him, among his papers, a document which contained, as my father said, the recital of a singular story, and which, in my father's opinion, might be worth money to me. That is all that passed between us until your arrival."
"Until my arrival," said Old Wheels, taking up the thread of the narrative, "When you heard from my lips that it was Lily's father who had brought this shame upon us. But doubtless, after my departure, you learned all the particulars from the document left by your uncle."
"No, sir, I know nothing more."
Old Wheels looked gratefully at Felix.
"It belongs to your character," he said, "to have practised such restraint; I might have expected as much. If you have the paper about you—"
"I have not got it, sir."