“I should not explain her action on that ground—were I to attempt to explain it,” Fillmore answered. “The Marquise Desmoines is not an ordinary woman: she is very far from it. No direct proof, beyond the testator’s confidential statement to certain persons, has ever been advanced as to his identity with the Charles Grantley who disappeared a score of years ago. Had the Marquise adopted that statement, it might have involved inconvenient or painful explanations with persons still living, which, under the circumstances, the Marquise would have been anxious to avoid. I mention no names, and need not do so. On the other hand, she is the owner of a property from her late husband which is in excess of her ordinary requirements. She desires no addition to it, and may have been unwilling to seem to interfere with the advantage of others.”
“How could that be?” demanded Philip. “If Mr. Grantley had bequeathed money to her, it would have made no difference whether she acknowledged him or not.”
“We cannot be certain of that,” the lawyer replied. “It constantly happens that legacies are, for some reason or other, refused, or become in some manner inoperative; and in such cases there is generally an alternative—sometimes more than one—provided in codicils. There is no reason to suppose that Mr. Grantley would have failed to foresee such a contingency, and to provide against it; especially in view of the somewhat exceptional position that he was conscious of occupying.”
“That is to say, if he had left his money to Madame Desmoines, and she had refused it, you think he would have provided beforehand that it should go to somebody else?” said Philip.
“I think we have no reason to suppose otherwise,” returned the other, with the lawyer’s prudence of phrase. “And it may have been in order to facilitate her refusal, had the alternative presented itself, that she acted in anticipation.”
“I was sure she would do what she considered right,” said Mrs. Lockhart, who had not in the least comprehended Fillmore’s analysis, but had inferred from his tone and manner that he was in some way defending Perdita from an aspersion.
“She possesses many qualities not commonly found in women,” remarked Fillmore, looking down at his hands meditatively. After a little he rose, as for departure. Philip was just then saying something to Mrs. Lockhart; and as Marion also rose, she and the lawyer were for a moment by themselves.
“Mr. Fillmore,” she said, coloring as she spoke, and lowering her voice as if she intended her words for him only, “didn’t you say that legatees often refused their legacies?”
“All sorts of strange things occur, in law as well as elsewhere, Miss Lockhart.”
“Why should any one refuse a legacy?”