‘Alfred Belassis is by no means a poor man. He is very well-to-do in the world.’
‘But still in trade.’
‘Yes, in trade; but do you think a wealthy man, even in trade, would be quite beneath Alfred Belassis’ notice?’
‘I see you know more than I do, Miss Marjory,’ said Tor, the feeling of perplexity growing slowly upon him. ‘Won’t you confide in me now, and tell me what it is?’
‘Come into the shrubbery, then, where we can talk uninterrupted. I do not know much, but I suspect a good deal. Perhaps we can piece it together.’
Tor followed her, wondering, but not seeing the end. Was this what she meant by ‘putting a spoke in Belassis’ wheel’?
‘Now,’ said Miss Marjory, seating herself upon a rustic chair, and bidding Tor follow her example. ‘I suppose, as you are a man, you don’t see an inch before your nose as yet? Men never do.’
Tor was forced to admit that he didn’t.
‘Now, who do you suppose was the father of that young man?’
‘Was it a brother of Belassis?—a brother who made a low marriage and was cast off, and never heard of more? That’s what I fancy must have taken place.’