"There is no question of being deceived. The discovery was not forced upon my attention; I made it for myself. Christina had no idea that there was any relationship between us. She was taken completely by surprise, when I told her she was my sister's child."
"You have let your imagination run away with you, Margaret. How can you be sure of what you say? Where are your proofs? I don't believe for a moment, that Miss Moore had any connection with Helen. I don't believe it at all."
And as Sir Arthur's lips went into a determined line, Margaret smiled faintly, remembering the days of their youth, when her brother had set his mouth in just such obstinate curves, if he were in disagreement with any of his family.
Very quietly, but very firmly, Margaret made herself heard, dominating the man by that strength of personality, of which he had already become strangely aware; forcing him, against his own inclinations, to hear her story, from beginning to end.
"At present I have, as you say, no proofs," she said. "No legal proofs. But those should be the least difficult to find. We must get Helen's marriage certificate, and Christina's birth and baptismal certificates. I have been thinking it all out, when I lay awake at night. And we must make all necessary enquiries at Staveley—the village where Christina lived with her father and mother. Unfortunately, the clergyman she knew there, is dead; and the solicitor, who seems to have done Helen's business for her, is in Africa, and Christina does not know his address. But—the pendant, the emerald pendant, was certainly sent to Helen by our mother; and before Helen died, she tried to send you a message. She sank into unconsciousness with your name on her lips—'Tell Arthur'—those were the very last words she spoke."
Sir Arthur's severe face softened; some of the hardness in his eyes died away; it was in a shaken and softened voice that he said:
"It is difficult even now to believe that all this can be true; and yet—there is a certain ring of truth about it. I should like to see this Miss Moore. I cannot understand why, if she was innocent of theft, she ran away from Bramwell."
"She is very young; she was very frightened. She knew she could produce no proof of her innocence. And you must remember, Arthur, that I am the only person living, who knows there was a replica of Ellen's pendant. Christina's coming to me was providential. I—think she was sent into my care."
Sir Arthur was silent; indeed, he spoke no more until Christina, summoned by Margaret's bell, came into the room, her face flushing and paling by turns, when she saw the upright figure seated beside the bed.
"I wished to see you," Sir Arthur said, in the magisterial tones which were wont to strike terror into the hearts of guilty offenders. "My sister tells me a very remarkable story; and although, pending much more absolute proof, I suspend judgment, I should like to hear your own view of this strange thing."