"Oh," he interrupted, in a very pleasant and somewhat cultured voice. "You are the gentleman who gave evidence at the inquest. Come in please." He stepped aside to let me past. "I am very glad to see you, as I wish to ask you some questions."
I proceeded him into the shop, while he closed the door. "I said all I had to say at the inquest," I answered quickly.
"I read all about it in the papers, Mr. Vance."
"You did not come to the inquest then?"
"No, you might have guessed that, seeing you were present. I only came over to the funeral, when I heard that my aunt had left me her money--not in very appropriate clothes, I fear, though; but I had no time to get an outfit, you see. Now I am looking into things."
We were in the back room by this time, and a heap of letters and papers lay untidily on the floor. Miss Monk's photograph still smiled from the mantelpiece, and I stole a glance at it, which left me more enthralled than ever. "You won't mind my going on with my sorting," said Striver, placing a chair for me, and dropping on his knees; "but I want to get things straight before dark, as I have to return to Burwain for a few days."
He was so amazingly cheerful, that I could not help saying so. He looked up smiling. "You can't expect a poor man who has come in for money to be miserable," said Striver, with much truth. "Besides my aunt never did care for me, and I was quite surprised to learn that I was her heir. Had we been at all attached to one another I should have come to the inquest, and even before, seeing she met with so dreadful a death. But there wasn't much love lost between us, Mr. Vance, so only as her heir did I come to the funeral. I can't pretend to feel very sorry."
"That sounds rather heartless, seeing how you have benefited by her death."
Striver shrugged. "I daresay; but I never was a hypocrite. Put yourself in my place. If a disagreeable old woman left you the money she could no longer use, would you break your heart?"
I laughed. "No, I can't say that I would."