"What do you mean?"
"Something horrid. I don't know what it is, but I fear the worst."
"Don't be a fool, Dinah," said Beatrice impatiently, for she winced at hearing her own doubts put into speech. "It's money troubles that annoy him, and probably, now that Mr. Alpenny is dead, he has gone to see the executors, to know how his mortgage will stand."
"As if he couldn't ask you," cried Dinah, rising and throwing her riding-skirt over her arm. "You'll get the money, of course. It ought to be a lot, Beatrice, for Jerry, who has had dealings with money-lenders, says they make heaps and heaps."
"I know nothing until the will is read. Go away, dear, and come back after poor Mr. Alpenny is buried."
"Poor Mr. Alpenny!" mocked Dinah. "Well, you are forgiving, Beatrice. He was a nasty old man, and never did any good in his life. He is more useful to me and Jerry dead than alive."
"Dinah!"
"Oh, I know it's horrid of me," said Miss Paslow penitently, "but we must live--I mean Jerry and I must think about our marriage. His father won't allow him any money, and Mrs. Snow is a cat. Our only chance of getting married, and living in a tweeny-weeny house, with a general servant, is for Jerry to get a rise. Now, if Jerry writes something picturesque about this murder, he'll get the rise and----"
"Oh, go away," cried Beatrice, for this disconnected talk grated on her over-strung nerves, "and don't tell even Jerry that I met Vivian--I mean Mr. Paslow--under the Witches' Oak."
"I won't say anything," promised Dinah firmly; "and I suppose it was improper for you to meet Vivian so late without a chaperone. But you will marry Vivian, darling, won't you?" she went on coaxingly. "He is so poor, and loves you; and then Mr. Alpenny's money--I mean your money--can set up the family again, and----"