“She’s a young girl, and more romantic than I wish she was. At her age girls do silly things, sometimes. He called on Wednesday—you heard her say so—and was there again to-night. I don’t like it, I tell you.”
“Her uncle is responsible for—”
“It is more than that. She knew him long before she knew her uncle existed. Her father introduced him—her father. And to her mind, whatever her father did was right.”
“Witness his brilliant selection of an executor. Oh, Mater, you weary me! I used to know this Pearson when he was a reporter downtown, and.... Humph!”
“What is it?”
“Why, nothing, I guess. It seemed as if I remember Warren and Pearson in some sort of mix-up. Some.... Humph! I wonder.”
He was silent, thinking. His mother pressed his arm excitedly.
“If you remember anything that occurred between Rodgers Warren and this man, anything to this Pearson’s disadvantage, it may pay us to investigate. What was it?”
“I don’t know. But it seemed as if I remembered Warren’s ... or a friend of his telling me ... saying something ... but it couldn’t be of importance, because Caroline doesn’t know it.”
“I’m not so sure that it may not be important. And, if you recall, on that day when we first met him at Caroline’s, she seemed hurt because he had not visited them since her father died. Perhaps there was a reason. At any rate, I should look into the matter.”