‘Yes, quite, I should say.’
‘Then what made one of the sisters marry Alfred Belassis?’
‘That I don’t know, but I might find out.’
‘Do so if you can. Of course, a match like that would be an immense advantage to a man in his position; one can understand that if such a thing as that were in view, he would be reluctant enough to confess his former marriage with a lady’s-maid. I wonder if Nelly was dead at the time, and if he knew it. Mr. Debenham, unless you can make sure of that fact, don’t let your sister marry Lewis Belassis on any account.’
‘I will not,’ said Tor resolutely.
‘You must find out the exact date of the wedding, and I will endeavour to find out that of Nelly’s death. Unluckily, as all these things happened more than a quarter of a century ago, I am doubtful if I have even a record left of the place the poor girl went to. It was Devonshire or Dorsetshire, I think, but I can be sure of nothing. Still, I will do my best; where there’s a will there’s a way. And I think you have now another hold upon your worthy uncle.’
‘I think so,’ answered Tor, with some satisfaction in his tone. ‘If I wish to be specially agreeable to him, or if he has been particularly pleasant to me, I can tell him that I have been over to Whitbury, and ask him if he has any knowledge of the place.’
Miss Marjory seemed to enjoy the idea of this question very much.
‘Yes, Whitbury must recall many very pleasant associations; for, as I tell you, he sowed plenty of wild oats here before he spoilt poor Nelly’s life. Mr. Graves could, I fancy, lay his hands upon some papers which would be rather disconcerting to a man of his social standing. You could ask him if he remembers the lawyer Mr. Graves, or Miss Marjory Descartes. I should like to see his face if you did!’
‘Did he know you, then?’