"Bernal's heart is right, even if his theology doesn't always please me," said his brother graciously, examining some cards that lay on the table. "I see Mrs. Wyeth has called," he continued to Nancy, looking up from these.
"Yes. She wanted me to see her sister, poor Mrs. Eversley, who is ill at her house. I promised to look in to-morrow."
"I've just been telling Nance how beautiful I think Mrs. Wyeth is," said Bernal. "She's rare, with that face of the low-browed Greek. It's one of the memories I shall take back to my Eve-less Eden."
"She is beautiful," said Nancy. "Of course her nose is the least bit thin and long, but it rather adds zest to her face. Now I must dress for dinner."
When Nancy had gone, Bernal, who had been speaking with a marked lightness of tone, turned to Allan with an equally marked seriousness.
"Old chap, you know about that money of mine— of Grandfather's?"
Allan instantly became attentive.
"Of course, there's no hurry about that—you must take time to think it over," he answered.
"But there is hurry! I shouldn't have waited so long to make up my mind.
"Then you have made up your mind?" questioned his brother, with guarded eagerness.