"But Beatrice!"
"Beatrice," said Mowbray, "must make a good match. It shouldn't be difficult with her advantages. And now I suppose I'd better go down. I think the effect of this disaster must remain a secret between us."
He locked up the papers and shortly afterward stood talking to Brand in a quiet corner of the hall.
"If it wouldn't be an intrusion, I'd like to offer you my sympathy, sir," Brand said. "The mail-carrier brought me a letter from my English steward."
"Thank you; it has been a shock. Did you deal with Barnett's?"
"I understand they have handled the estate accounts for many years."
"Then you will be relieved to hear that it's probable all the depositors will be paid."
Brand made a gesture of expostulation; but Mowbray's mind had taken a sudden turn.
"So you haven't disposed of your English property!" he commented.
Brand's glance rested on Beatrice, who was standing near, talking to one of the younger men. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and there was warm color in her face. Her pose was light and graceful; she seemed filled with eager gaiety, and Brand's expression hardened.