“I hope, sir, you are convinced now that Carl did not take Mrs. Crawford’s money,” said Gilbert. “I told you it was probably Peter.”
“Are you sure of what you said, Jane?” asked the doctor.
“Yes, sir. I saw Peter take the wallet with my own eyes.”
“It is his mother’s money, and they must settle it between them I am glad Carl did not take it. Really, this has been a very unpleasant scene.”
“I am sorry for my part in it. Carl is my friend, and I feel that I ought to stand up for his rights,” remarked Gilbert.
“Certainly, certainly, that is right. But you see how I am placed.”
“I see that this is no place for Carl. If you will allow me, I will send an expressman for the trunk, and take it with me to the station.”
“Yes, I see no objection. I—I would invite you to dinner, but Mrs. Crawford seems to be suffering from a nervous attack, and it might not be pleasant.”
“I agree with you, sir.”
Just then Peter entered the room, and looked at Gilbert with surprise and wrath, remembering his recent discomfiture at the hands of the young visitor.