“He made good the loss out of his own private property,” she went on; “and he supported Mrs. Grantley as long as she lived. Poor woman, she was his sister, and of course knew nothing about her husband’s wickedness.”
“ ’Tis indeed a romantic story,” said Mr. Grant thoughtfully. “Sir Francis, I presume, took all means to trace the fugitive?”
“I think he did all that he honestly could to let him escape. They had been such friends, you know. Besides, if the unfortunate young man had any feeling left, he must have been punished enough in losing his honor and his family.”
“Ha! no doubt. He has never been heard from since?”
“No; except that Sir Francis gave me to know that he died a few years afterwards.”
“I don’t believe that Sir Francis Bendibow was so wonderfully generous,” exclaimed Marion, who had been manifesting some signs of restiveness. “You always think a person is good if they say they are. I dare say the Bendibows were very grateful to Charles Grantley for marrying into their family; he had earls and barons for his kinsmen, and the Bendibows have always courted the great. As to Sir Francis, ’tis true his manners are very soft and courteous; but my father has told me he was very unsteady in his youth, and I think my father meant more than he said.”
“Yet, admitting that, still the defaulter would not be excused,” observed Mr. Grant.
“Since he was not brought to his trial, it cannot be said how much or how little he was a criminal,” returned Marion, turning her eyes upon the speaker and kindling with her cause. “He was the son of a man who had nothing ignoble in him, whatever else he may have had. You have told me that yourself, mother. And his mother was noble of birth, and I have heard, noble of nature, too.”
“I can confirm you in that,” said Lancaster. “My father used to say that if Edith Seabridge had been born a man instead of a woman, she would have made herself the foremost man in England. But it showed no less nobleness in her to give up everything to the love and service of her husband.”
“And the son of such a father and mother should not be judged a thief and coward except upon clear evidence,” Marion continued, acknowledging Lancaster’s support only by a heightened color. “He died before I was born, I suppose, but I have always thought that perhaps he was not so much to blame—not in any dastardly way, I mean. He was not a rake and a gambler as Sir Francis was; but a man who cared for learning, and for freedom, and the thoughts that make people better. ’Tis not that kind of man that would steal money for himself: if he committed a crime, I can only think it must have been for the good of some one he loved—not for his own good. You say he and Sir Francis were dear friends; perhaps it was for Sir Francis’ own sake that he did it—to help him through some strait. And then it would be no wonder that Sir Francis let him escape so easily!”