“No doubt,” said Mr. Rowse.
“You’ll let me—you’ll let me, Mr. Gould,” implored Caroline; “you’ll let me keep her, and do all I can to make up to her. You see the Colonel thinks it is only justice; don’t you, Robert?”
“Mrs. Brownlow is quite right,” said the Colonel, seeing that her vehemence was a little distrusted; “it will be only an act of justice to make provision for your granddaughter.”
“I am sure, Colonel Brownlow, nothing can be handsomer than your conduct and Mrs. Brownlow’s,” said the old man; “but I should not like to take advantage of what she is good enough to say on the spur of the moment, till she has had more time to think it over.”
Therewith he took leave, while Caroline exclaimed—
“I always say there is no truer gentleman in the county than old Mr. Gould. I shall not be satisfied about that will till I have turned everything over and the partners have been written to.”
Again she was assured that she might set her mind at rest, and then the lawyers began to read a statement of the property which made Allen utter, under his breath, an emphatic “I say!” but his mother hardly took it in. The heated room had affected her from the first, and the bewilderment of the tidings seemed almost to crush her; her heart and temples throbbed, her head ached violently, and while the final words respecting arrangements were passing between the Colonel and the lawyers, she was conscious only of a sickening sense of oppression, and a fear of committing the absurdity of fainting.
However, at last her brother-in-law put her into the brougham, desiring the boys to walk home, which they did very willingly, and with a wonderful air of lordship and possession.
“Well, Caroline,” said the Colonel, “I congratulate you on being the richest proprietor in the county.”
“O Robert, don’t! If—if,” said a suffocated voice, so miserable that he turned and took her hand kindly, saying—