'Yes, I think I heard him say something like that to his friend, Captain Goring.'
'If he spoke of those pleasant times, he would scarcely have forgotten them,' was the natural response of Bella, to whom Lady Julia, after a languid stare, said,
'Next mail must bring some distinct details of this calamity that has fallen upon me and Miss Wilmot.'
Bella felt that she was excluded from the co-partnery of grief—she who loved the dead as she loved her own soul, and more, and she was almost, in spite of herself, tempted to daringly enter some little protest when Lady Julia spoke again.
'I wish Captain Goring were at home; I should send for him. By the way, does not rumour say he has succeeded to a fortune?'
'To £20,000 a year,' replied Bella, in a low voice.
'Say £10,000—that will be nearer the mark, perhaps £5,000.'
'Why?'
'I believe very little that I see, and always but the half of what I hear,' she replied, fanning herself.
'How can this woman think of such matters just now,' thought Bella, an emotion of resentful bitterness growing in her heart. 'Oh, how little did she deserve to have such a son as my darling Jerry!'