“Yes—but you wouldn’t leave the Brights out altogether, mother, would you? That’s what will happen, if the will won’t hold.”
“We’ll make a compromise and give them enough.”
“A few millions,” suggested Ralston, with a little laugh. “Isn’t it funny that we should be talking about such sums in real earnest? But Alexander can’t see it in that light.”
“Well—if he doesn’t? We can do it alone in that case. What’s a million in forty?”
“Two and a half per cent,” answered Ralston, promptly, from sheer force of the new habit he had acquired at the bank.
“You’re turning into a business man,” laughed his mother. “I didn’t mean that. I meant it would be little enough.”
“Yes—but Ham wouldn’t take it. You know him as well as I do. He’ll have his rights or nothing. Honestly, there’s no reason on earth why you should make him a present of a million, if the law doesn’t give it to him. And there can’t be any comparison in this case, because Alexander means to have everything for his father, and then lock him up in Bloomingdale and manage the fortune in his own Trust Company. For the Brights it means forty millions or nothing—not a red cent.”
“I suppose you’re right about that. And Hamilton’s your friend, Jack.”
“He’s been a good friend to me. But he’s not the sort of fellow to turn on me because I’m opposed to him in a suit. Still—he couldn’t help feeling that it must make a difference. He wouldn’t be human if he didn’t. You mustn’t blame him for it.”
“Blame him! Of course not! Who would? He’s the one who has everything at stake. Well, Jack, what shall we do? We’ve got to decide.”