The Heart of Penelope

by Marie Belloc Lowndes

'Why all this haste?' he asked good-humouredly. 'I'll tell you what we had better do; I will draft a letter, for you to copy, to your lawyers. In this letter we will explain that you wish the arrangements concerning the Settlement, embodied, I believe, in your will, to be carried out now, in your lifetime; further, you will tell them prettily, in your own words, that you wish the whole thing settled as soon as possible. They will then go into the whole matter, and let you know what can be done, and how long it will take to do it.'

He waited a moment, then continued: 'Now about Miss Wake's scheme. I should suggest its being tried at first on a small scale. I understand she has reduced her demands'—he could not keep his prejudice against Penelope's young friend out of his voice—'to what she calls "a pure milk depôt." Some time ago I did consult a doctor I know on that point, and I admit he thought it a good idea. This portion of her scheme need not cost a great deal of money, and though, of course, it will put all the milkmen against you, as you personally won't be there when their boys come and break the windows of the Settlement, I don't know that that much matters!'

He waited for her answer. These discussions, which had at intervals taken place for many years past between Mrs. Robinson and himself always amused him and bored her, the more so that, after a spirited struggle on her part, he generally got his own way.

But to-day Penelope was not in fighting trim. 'You don't understand,' she said at length, and in a voice so low that he had to bend forward to hear her words. 'This is only a part of what I want you to do for me. You referred just now to my will. Supposing that I died suddenly—that I was killed out riding, for instance; you, as my executor, would have to see to almost everything, to undertake almost all the arrangements I want you to get done for me now, during the next few weeks.'

Winfrith turned and looked at her keenly. She met his gaze unflinchingly; but the colour had gone from her face, the proud mouth, which he had once kissed so often, and which he had once refused to kiss (did Penelope ever remember, too? he wondered; he never forgot) was trembling, and her eyes met his in questioning, shrinking distress at the pain she felt herself about to inflict.

And then suddenly he realized, with a feeling of sharp revolt and anguish, that that which he had sometimes thought of as being possible, but which during recent years had gone into the background of his mind—for he was a much-occupied as well as an unimaginative man—had come upon him. He saw that he was going to lose her, that their old relationship was even now severed, and that this was in very truth her last and supreme call on him for help.

But there was no perceptible change in his voice, as he said very quietly: 'Please read me your notes: then I shall understand more clearly what you want done; and once I understand, I will do all in my power to see that your wishes are carried out.'

She bowed her head, and Winfrith listened with dismay and increasing astonishment as Mrs. Robinson explained the scheme, evidently well and carefully thought out, by which she proposed to renounce and distribute the whole of the immense fortune which had been left to her by Melancthon Robinson.

As she spoke, as she read on from her notes, her voice regained something of its sureness of accent; and glancing frequently at the paper she held in her hand, she elaborated the various points, showing more real knowledge of the problems which confront the modern philanthropist than Winfrith would have thought possible.

Then came the sudden, the agonizing, conviction that in this matter Penelope had been helped by some other and more practical mind than her own; and, as this fact became clear, he set his teeth, and forced himself to remember that the man, whoever he might be, who had inspired this great renunciation could be no fortune-hunter.