"Ah!" I said, rubbing my hands with satisfaction, "now we are coming to the gist of the matter. Any mention of the eye?"
"No. You see, in the diary--it can hardly be called one--Uncle Gabriel only jotted down scraps of the scheme in his head. To make a long story short, I gathered that he had entrusted the secret of the whereabouts of the diamonds to Anne Caldershaw, as he had known her for years and esteemed her an honest woman."
"I see; and she was not honest."
"Don't you think so?"
"No. Evidently she intended to tell Striver the secret, since she left him the glass eye in the will. He was to get the money, and then--I daresay--he could ask you to marry him."
"Ridiculous," said Miss Monk, coloring.
"Perhaps. Nevertheless I believe that such was the scheme of Mrs. Caldershaw, for she intended to enrich her nephew at your expense, hoping that you would marry him, and thus gain the benefit of what was rightfully your own. The idea of a marriage salved her conscience, as it were."
"The idea is absurd. I would never marry a man like Joseph, although he is handsome and fairly well educated."
"You know that he loves you."
"Yes, I know," she replied, blushing, but in a somewhat cold tone. "Never mind: the thing--as I say--is absurd. But it might be as you say, Mr. Vance, that Anne had such a scheme in her head. However, you understand that I gathered from the so-called diary that she knew of the whereabouts of the jewels."