Major Marsden frowned. "You might have chosen some one else's, surely. He ruined her father."
"Not at all; he lent him money. Some one had to do it."
"Well, it's a grim world, and her drive can't be more so than the last she had." The remembrance evidently absorbed him, for he sat silent.
"You're looking used up, Marsden," said the other kindly. "Anything the matter?"
"Yes."
"Well, if it has to do with the Commissariat business I don't wonder. The Colonel's private affairs are simply chaos." He pointed to the piles of papers on and below the table with a contemptuous smile.
Major Marsden shook his head. "The public ones are in fairly good order. I'm surprised at the method; but of course he had good clerks; and then the system of checks--"
"Make it possible to be inaccurate with the utmost accuracy. What's wrong?"
Philip Marsden moved uneasily in his chair and gave an impatient sigh. "I suppose I've got to tell you, because you're the man's executor; but I don't want to."
"Never do anything you don't want, my dear fellow; it's a mistake. You don't know what will please other people, and you generally have a rough guess at your own desires."