His wife gave him a look compounded of scorn and irritation. "There is not much doubt what you would do in Brian Earle's place. That girl seems to turn the head of every man she comes in contact with. I am sure I wish I had never heard of her!"
"I fancy Rathborne wishes the same thing," observed Mr. Singleton. "I never saw a man so changed as he is of late; I met him yesterday, and I was struck by his moody looks."
Mrs. Singleton shrugged her shoulders. "I have no compassion to spare for him. A man who has been such a fool as he has, deserves to suffer. But we have done nothing to deserve to be supplanted in this way."
"Well," said the more reasonable husband, "it is hardly just to talk of being 'supplanted.' The old fellow has always been very frank with me, and insisted there should be no room for misconception. We have an agreeable home without any expense to ourselves, but he has always told me that he did not bind himself to leave me anything at all."
"Of course he would not bind himself; but if Brian refuses to be his heir—and that is what his conduct heretofore amounts to,—whose chance should be better than yours?"
"Really it is hard to say. Who can account for the whims of rich old men? He may cut us all off, and leave his fortune to Miss Lynde."
"If I thought so," said Mrs. Singleton, fiercely, "I would murder her—"
"Come, Anna, that is beyond a joke!"
"Or myself, for having brought her to his notice."
"Defer both murders until you find out whether there is any need for them," said her provoking husband. And then he beat a hasty retreat.