At this point Adèle looked indignant and Margaret tried to protest. But the lawyer waved his hand: "One moment, Mrs. Grey; I wish to make no reflections. As I stated before, in my interview with Mr. Forrest (he took up no less than two hours of my time on a very busy day; this is the sole grudge I bear him);" the lawyer showed his teeth—"as I stated before, Mrs. Grey, I wash my hands altogether of this part of the business. I did my best; my poor services were rejected wholesale, I may say. As a Christian I forgive; yes indeed, what I have come to tell you of my after-conduct will prove that I bear no malice. But it hit me hard—hit me hard."
He touched the region of the body where the centre of feeling is always supposed to reside, and looked sentimental.
"Pray sit down, Mr. Robinson. I am sorry your feelings were hurt in any way," said Margaret with gentle dignity; "and I know quite well that my kind friend, Mr. Forrest, is apt to be a little impulsive. Let me assure you that I am not ungrateful for the various services you have rendered me." Poor Margaret! she was thinking, with a kind of compunction, about that interview in London and the sundry advances for maintenance which had been a great boon to her at the time. "His heart is kind," she said to herself; "we may have judged him harshly." Then to him: "I must honestly confess that I was inclined to blame you for lukewarmness in the last matter I confided to you: I mean the search for my husband and child."
"Lukewarmness, Mrs. Grey!" Mr. Robinson lifted his hands in a kind of holy horror; and surely it was a superabundance of honesty that shone out from his eyes. "You really astonish me. In fact I am at a loss to understand you at all. Let me pass the facts of the case in review"—his voice grew stern—"perhaps then the blame will rest upon the right shoulders. If I remember rightly—Be so good as to correct any misstatements; I like to be accurate, but naturally my mind is so full of other matters. Well, as I was saying, you consulted me—in this very room, I think. I promised to do my best, letting you know results. Thereupon you placed in my care certain trinkets. I took them simply because I thought them safer in my strong box than here with you in this lonely place. As to making any use of them, why, Mrs. Grey, facts prove the contrary. Mr. Forrest had only to demand them on your part. Without hesitation I restored them intact. To proceed: as soon as I return (remember, I have not the faintest clue), I consult a detective, put him, as far as possible, on the track, and, further, demand an interview with Mr. Grey's solicitor—perfectly unsatisfactory, professes to know nothing. I take various other measures—needless to enter into detail. The principles of what one may call the private-inquiry business are not easy to explain, especially to ladies. I think I obtain a clue, but is it for me to torture you with half revelations? I wait for a little more certainty, and in the interval in dashes Mr. Forrest, states that you have given over these matters into his hands, that your confidence is shaken, that affairs would be strictly looked into."
Here Mr. Robinson made a dramatic pause and looked sternly at his repentant client. "Mrs. Grey," he continued, "do you know what was my impulse at that moment? Your affairs, as you are well aware, are—or I should say were—in a complicated condition. I felt inclined to take no more trouble, to let your new friends have the burden and responsibility; but"—he lifted his eyes sanctimoniously to the ceiling—"I do nothing upon impulse. Further consideration showed me that to act in so hasty a manner would be unworthy of myself, inconsistent with my character as a Christian man. I wish to 'adorn my profession in all things.' Whether in this I am successful or no is not for me to say."
Through all her penitence Margaret was growing impatient of this long harangue, and Adèle's face showed that she, at least, would not hear it much longer.
Mrs. Grey broke the little interlude short: "And pray, Mr. Robinson, what did you do?"
"Set to work immediately to disentangle your affairs. But, mind you, a man may go to a certain length; self-respect forbids him to go further. What I said to myself was this: I am distrusted, I must resign my position."
Margaret was about to interrupt him.
"Allow me. Before you answer, I must give my reasons, both from my side of the question and from yours, for the advisability of the step which I may say is irrevocably determined in my own mind. We shall take the reasons from your point of view first. Mr. Forrest has your full confidence. You acknowledge so far as this?" Margaret bowed. "You took measures with him totally unknown to me—a breach of confidence—but this I should have been content to waive. Ladies are naturally impulsive. To proceed with our reasons. Mr. Forrest distrusts and dislikes me—impossible to say why. He is a worldling. It may be that a few words of warning and exhortation which I felt it my bounden duty to give him on the occasion of our last meeting have something to do with it. It is a matter of small import, except in so far as it concerns you. Mr. Forrest has inspired you with distrust; he will do so further; possibly your husband also, for I hear he has succeeded in finding out something through Mr. Edwards. But of this you doubtless know more than I. Under such circumstances it will be far wiser for you to allow me at once to give up the management of your affairs. My reasons for desiring it are many of them personal. I will not enter into them, as I fear I have tired you already. If you like I can proceed to open out my accounts and give a rapid sketch of my proceedings, that you may sign this document with your eyes open. Your friend looks dissatisfied; I know ladies often object to signing. Let me reassure her: this is nothing but a deed of release, to pave the way for transfer papers which are now being prepared."