"Right?—I suppose so. But this is very astonishing news. You are positively certain that George Singleton, my uncle's son, is alive?"
"I am certain that Marion has told me so, and I do not suppose she is mistaken, since she has resigned a fortune to him. People are usually sure before they take such a step as that."
"Yes," he assented, "but it seems almost incredible. For years George Singleton has been thought to be dead, and I was under the impression that my uncle had positive reason for believing him so. This being the case, there was no reason why he should not leave his fortune as he liked, and I was glad when I heard that he had left it to Miss Lynde; for the possession of wealth seemed to be the first desire of her heart."
"Poor Marion!" said Claire, gently. "You might be more tolerant of that desire if you knew all that she has suffered—suffered in a way peculiarly hard to her—from poverty. And she has surely proved in the most conclusive manner that, however much she desired wealth, she was not prepared to keep it at any cost to her conscience or her self-respect."
"Did she, then, resign all the fortune?"
"Very nearly all. She said that she reluctantly retained only a few thousand dollars."
"But is it possible that George Singleton did not insist upon providing for her fitly? Whatever his other faults, he was not mercenary—formerly."
"Mr. Singleton must have tried every possible argument to induce her to keep half the fortune, but she refused to do so. I think she felt keenly some reflections that had been thrown on her by Mr. Singleton's relatives, and wished to disprove them."
Earle was silent for a minute. He seemed trying to adjust his mind to these new views of Marion's character. "And you tell me that she is here—with you?"
"I was about to say that she is in the room," Claire answered; "but I do not see her just now. She was here a few minutes ago."