“I will send them to her, so that it may be known.”
“No. She gave them to you to keep for her. You cannot return them with courtesy until she asks for them. And ’tis easy to understand why she should wish them to remain unread. If Mr. Grantley was really her father—”
“Philip, do you doubt it?”
“My belief is that he was everything that is honorable; but what I believe or not is nothing to the purpose. Of course, if he was her father, and an honest man, it follows that something must be very wrong with Sir Francis Bendibow—”
“I am sure of that!”
“Well, I know nothing about it; but what everybody does know is that Perdita is Bendibow’s adopted daughter, and is under a certain obligation—”
“He did not treat her well: she says so herself.”
“In society, Marion, there is a convention to take certain things for granted. The conventional supposition in this case is that she is under obligations to Bendibow. Why should she create a scandal about a matter that was settled, for good or evil, a score of years since? Who would gain by Bendibow’s being shamed? Those letters either contain the evidence of his shame, or they do not; and, in either case, it is reasonable enough that she should wish to let them alone.”
“I do not believe that that is her reason for refusing this legacy.”
“What in heaven’s name can it be then?”