‘Clarence!’ cried Emily in a horrified voice; and I asked if the date were not later than that by which we inherited.
‘Three years,’ Clarence said, ‘yes; but as things stand, it is absolutely impossible for me to make restitution at present.’
‘On account of the burthens on the estate?’ I said.
‘Oh, but we could give up,’ said Emily.
‘I dare say!’ said Clarence, smiling; ‘but to say nothing of poor Selina, my mother would hardly see it in the same light, nor should I deal rightly, even if I could make any alterations; I doubt whether my father would have held himself bound—certainly not while no one can read this document.’
‘It would simply outrage his legal mind,’ said Martyn.
‘Then what is to be done? Is the injustice to be perpetual?’ asked Emily.
‘This is what I have thought of,’ said Clarence. ‘We must leave matters as they are till I can realise enough either to pay off all these bequests, or to offer Mr. Fordyce the value of the estate.’
‘It is not the whole,’ I said.
‘Not the Wattlesea part. This means Chantry House and the three farms in the village. £10,000 would cover it.’