She nodded.
"That sum is in gilt-edged securities, and you will probably find that a number of dividends are due to you. The late Mr. Farrington, when he made his arrangements for your future, chose this somewhat unusual and bizarre method of protecting your money, much against my will. I might tell you," he went on, "that he consulted me about six years ago on the subject, and I strongly advised him against it. As it happened, I was wrong, for immediately afterwards, as his books show, he must have suffered enormous losses, and although I make no suggestion against his character,"—he raised his hand deprecatingly,—"yet I do say that the situation which was created by the slump in Canadian Pacifics of which he was a large holder, might very easily have tempted a man not so strong-willed as Mr. Farrington. At the present moment," he went on, "I have no more to do than discharge my duty, and I have called beforehand to see you and to ask whether your uncle spoke of the great Tollington fortune of which he was one of the trustees, though as I believe—as I know, in fact—he never handled the money."
She looked surprised.
"It is curious that you should ask that," she said. "Mr. Doughton is engaged in searching for the heir to that fortune."
Debenham nodded.
"So I understand," he said. "I ask because I received a communication from the other trustees in America, and I am afraid your future husband's search will be unavailing unless he can produce the heir within the next forty-eight hours."
"Why is that?" she asked in surprise.
"The terms of the will are peculiar," said Mr. Debenham, walking up and down as he spoke. "The Tollington fortune, as you may know——"
"I know nothing about it," she interrupted.
"Then I will tell you." He smiled. "The fortune descends to the heir and to his wife in equal proportions."