I sat silent for a time, trying to take in this piece of information. He had been Julia's guardian ever since she was left an orphan, ten years old; but I had never known that there had not been a formal and legal settlement of her affairs when she was of age. Our family name had no blot upon it; it was one of the most honored names in the island. But if this came to light, then the disgrace would be dark indeed.
"Can you tell me all about it?" I asked.
My father, after making his confession, settled himself in his chair comfortably; appearing to feel that he had begun to make reparation for the wrong. His temperament was more buoyant than mine. Selfish natures are often buoyant.
"It would take a long time," he said, "and it would be a deuse of a nuisance. You make it up with Julia, and marry her, as you're bound to do. Of course, you will manage all her money when you are her husband, as you will be. Now you know all."
"But I don't know all," I replied; "and I insist upon doing so, before I make up my mind what to do."
I believe he expected this opposition from me, for otherwise all he had said could have been said in my room. But after feebly giving battle on various points, and staving off sundry inquiries, he opened a drawer in one of his cabinets, and produced a number of deeds, scrip, etc., belonging to Julia.
For two hours I was busy with his accounts. Once or twice he tried to slink out of the room; but that I would not suffer. At length the ornamental clock on his chimney-piece struck eleven, and he made another effort to beat a retreat.
"Do not go away till every thing is clear," I said; "is this all?"
"All?" he repeated; "isn't it enough?"
"Between three and four thousand pounds deficient!" I answered; "it is quite enough."