Justina heard this with deepest sorrow. All that filial love could offer to this gentle sufferer she freely gave, devoting her days to her mother, while her nights were given to the public. None could have guessed how the brilliant actress—all sparkle and vivacity, living in the character her art had created—spent the quiet hours of her daily life. But she had Maurice always near her, and his presence brightened every hour of her life.
He had laid his case before his lawyers, and even the cautious family solicitor had been compelled to own that it was not altogether a bad case. What was his astonishment, however, when, three days later, he was told that Messrs. Pergament and Pergament had met his solicitors, examined documents, discussed the merits of the case, and finally pronounced their client’s willingness to surrender the estate, in its entirety, without litigation.
‘But I told Mr. Penwyn of his cousin’s willingness to accept a compromise, to take half the value of the estate, and leave him in possession of the land,’ said Maurice.
‘Mr. Penwyn elects to surrender the estate altogether. An eccentric gentleman, evidently.’
‘Then the whole business is settled; there will be no law suit.’
‘Apparently not,’ said the solicitor, drily.
Lawyers could hardly live if people were in the habit of surrendering their possessions so quickly.
Maurice called on Messrs. Pergament and Pergament, and explained to the head of that firm that the young lady for whom he was acting had no desire to exact her full claim under Squire Penwyn’s will, that she would prefer a compromise to depriving Mr. Penwyn and his wife of house and home.
‘Very generous, very proper,’ replied Mr. Pergament. ‘I will communicate that desire to my client.’
Justina was horrified at the idea of Churchill Penwyn’s renunciation. All her old distrust of him vanished out of her mind—she thought of him as generous, disinterested—abandoning estate and position from an exalted sense of justice.