"She is steeped in falsehood to the very lips," he thought. "Doubtless, the little she told me of the history of her childhood was as false as all the rest. Heaven only knows what shameful secrets may have been hidden in her past life!"
She had crossed the threshold of the door, when some sudden impulse moved him to follow her.
"Do not leave Raynham till you have heard further from me, Lady Eversleigh," he said. "It will be my task to make all arrangements for your future life."
His wife did not answer him. She walked towards the hall, her head bent, her eyes fixed on the ground.
"She will not leave the castle until she is obliged to do so," thought Sir Oswald, as he returned to the library. "Oh, what a tissue of falsehood she tried to palm upon me! And she would have blackened my nephew's name, in order to screen her own guilt!"
He rang a bell, and told the servant who answered it to fetch Mr. Eversleigh. His nephew appeared five minutes afterwards, still very pale and anxious-looking.
"I have sent for you, Reginald," said the baronet, "because I have a duty to perform—a very painful duty—but one which I do not care to delay. It is now nearly a year and a half since I made a will which disinherited you. I had good reason for that step, as you know; but I have heard no further talk of your vices or your follies; and, so far as I can judge, you have undergone a reformation. It is not for me, therefore, to hold sternly to a determination which I had made in a moment of extreme anger: and I should perhaps have restored you to your old position ere this, had not a new interest absorbed my heart and mind. I have had cruel reason to repent my folly. I might feel resentment against you, on account of your friend's infamy, but I am not weak enough for that. Victor Carrington and I have a terrible account to settle, and it shall be settled to the uttermost. I need hardly tell you that, if you hold any further communication with him, you will for ever forfeit my friendship."
"My dear sir, you surely cannot suppose—"
"Do not interrupt me. I wish to say what I have to say, and to have done with this subject for ever. You know I have already told you the contents of the will which I made after my marriage. That will left the bulk of my fortune to my wife. That will must now be destroyed; and in the document which I shall substitute for it, your name will occupy its old place. Heaven grant that I do wisely, Reginald, and that you will prove yourself worthy of my confidence."
"My dear uncle, your goodness overpowers me. I cannot find words to express my gratitude."