“No, it was not! Uncle Joseph was more angry than I had ever before seen him. He declared he intended to make a new will the next morning, which would provide only a small income for me. He said this was not revenge or punishment for my loyalty to Mr. Hall, but—but—”
“But what?” I urged gently.
“It scarcely seems loyal to Mr. Hall for me to say it,” she returned, and the tears were in her eyes. “But this is all confidential. Well, Uncle Joseph said that Gregory only wanted to marry me for my fortune, and that the new will would prove this. Of course I denied that Mr. Hall was so mercenary, and then we had a good deal of an altercation. But it was not very different from many discussions we had had on the same subject, only Uncle was more decided, and said he had asked Mr. Randolph to come the next morning and draw up the new will. I left him still angry—he wouldn't even say good-night to me—and now I blame myself for not being more gentle, and trying harder to make peace. But it annoyed me to have him call Gregory mercenary—”
“Because you knew it was true,” I said quietly.
She turned white to the very lips. “You are unnecessarily impertinent,” she said.
“I am,” I agreed. “I beg your pardon.” But I had discovered that she did realize her lover's true nature.
“And then you went to your room, and stayed there?” I went on, with a meaning emphasis on the last clause.
“Yes,” she said; “and so, you see, what I have told you casts no light on the mystery. I only told you so as to explain the bits of the yellow rose. I feared, from what you said, that Mr. Hall's name might possibly be brought into discussion.”
“Why, he was not in West Sedgwick that night,” I said.
“Where was he?” she countered quickly.