She paid no attention to him, but went on, speaking, apparently, to herself.
“It explains everything,” she said. “He was father’s brother; and father, in some way, took and used his money. But father knew what sort of man he was, and so he asked him to be our guardian. Father thought he would be kind to us, I suppose. And he has been kind—he has. But why did he keep it a secret? Why did he.... I don’t understand that. Of course the money was his; all we had was his, by right. But to say nothing ... and to let us believe.... It does not seem like him at all. It....”
Sylvester interrupted quickly. “Caroline! Caroline!” he said, “don’t make any mistake. Don’t misjudge your uncle again. He is a good man; one of the best men I ever knew. Yes, and one of the wisest. Don’t say or think anything for which you may be sorry. I am speaking as your friend.”
She turned toward him once more, the distressed, puzzled look still on her face. “But I don’t understand,” she cried. “He.... Oh, Mr. Sylvester, please, now that I do know—now that you have told me so much—won’t you tell me the rest; the reason and—all of it? Please!”
The lawyer shook his head, regarding her with an expression of annoyance and reluctant admiration.
“Now that I’ve told you!” he repeated. “I don’t remember that I’ve told you anything.”
“But you have. Not in words, perhaps, but you have told me. I know. Please go on and tell me all. If you don’t,” with determination, “I shall make Uncle Elisha tell me as soon as he comes. I shall!”
Sylvester sighed. “Well, by George!” he repeated, feelingly. “I’ll tell you one thing, young woman, you’re wasting your talents. You should be a member of the bar. Anyone who can lead a battle-scarred veteran of cross-examination like myself into a trap and then spring it on him, as you have done, is gifted by Providence.”
“But will you tell me?”
He hesitated, perplexed and doubtful.