Mary told all that she knew, in a very clear and concise manner.
“Now, my good girl,” said Mr Trevor, “I must see your brother. In two days I shall be down at Exeter. If you write to him, or see him before I do, you must tell him he must trust in his lawyer, and have no reservation, or I shall not be able to do him so much service. Allow me to ask you have you any relations in Yorkshire?”
“No, sir, none.”
“And yet the name and Christian name are exactly the same. It’s an odd coincidence! They, however, changed their name, when they came into the property.”
“Changed the name of Rushbrook, sir!” said Mary, who now thought that she had a clue to Joey’s parents.
“Yes, changed it to Austin; they live now in Dorsetshire. I mention it because, if interest is required for your brother, and he could prove any relationship, it might be valuable. But, bless me! what is the matter? Smithers,” cried Mr Trevor, as he ran and supported Mary, “some water! quick! the girl has fainted!”
It was surprise at this astounding intelligence, her regard for Mrs Austin, and the light now thrown upon the interest she had shown for our hero, and the conviction of what must be her suffering, which had overcome the poor girl. In a short time she recovered.
“I thank you, sir, but I have suffered so much anxiety about my poor brother,” said Mary, faltering, and almost gasping for breath.
“He cannot be a very bad boy, since you are so fond of him,” said Mr Trevor.
“No, indeed; I wish I was half as good,” murmured Mary.