"He'll never know the property is obtained by fraud, because you will tell him he is the son of Fanny Blake and the squire; he will believe you, and regard himself as the lawful heir."
"Still, he thinks he's been born in lawful wedlock, and to undeceive him----"
"Gives him ten thousand a year," interrupted Beaumont coolly. "Well, what do you say, will you help me?"
"I'll tell you to-morrow."
"Why not to-day?"
"Because I don't trust you, I want to go over the affair in my own mind."
Beaumont shrugged his shoulders, put on his hat and lighted another cigarette.
"Just as you please," he said, pausing a moment at the door. "I'll call and see you to-morrow; but if you don't help me in this, I'll do what I say and tell Reginald everything."
When he was gone Patience sat for a long time looking into the fire, evidently pondering deeply. At length she sighed and muttered:
"I don't know what to do, I must ask counsel of the Lord."