“But, brother,” observed Major Harper, in whose manner was perceptible a certain vague uneasiness, “if—though I assure you Grimes has transacted all these matters, and he is a sharp man of business, while I am none—still, if it would be any satisfaction to you to know particulars concerning where Miss Bowen's money is invested”—
“In the funds; and to remain there by her father's will, to I think you said.”
“Precisely. It was invested there,” returned the brother, with an accent so light on the past tense that Nathanael, preoccupied with other things than money matters, did not observe it.
“Well, then, so let it stay. Don't let us talk any more about this matter. I trust entirely to you. To whom should I trust, if not to my own brother?”
At these hearty words Major Harper's face, quick in every mobile expression of feeling, betrayed much discomposure. He walked the room in a mood of agitation, compared to which the bridegroom's own restlessness was nothing. Then he went to the farther end of the apartment, and hurriedly read over the marriage-settlement.
“Faugh, Grimes! what balderdash is this?” he whispered angrily. “Balderdash?—nay, downright lies!”
“Drawn up exactly as you desired, and as we arranged, Major Harper,” answered Mr. Grimes, formally. “Settling upon the lady and her heirs for ever all her property now in the 'Three per Cent. Consols.'”
“Just heavens! and there's not a penny of it there!”
“But there will be by the time the marriage is celebrated, or soon after—since you are determined to sell out those shares.”
“I wish I could—I wish to Heaven I could!” cried the poor Major, in a despair that required all the warnings of his legal adviser to smother it down, so as to keep their conference private. “I've been driven nearly mad going from broker to broker in the City to-day. I might as well attempt to sell out shares in the Elysian Fields as in that confounded Wheal Caroline.”