He sent his keen eyes over her wan face, and came to his own conclusions. Here was no liar, if he knew the signs. Then he leaned toward her.
"Now," said he, "just tell me—what happened. All about it. Don't leave anything out—not the veriest little thing. How did you all happen to be in the library in the first place?"
"As I told you, Father had summoned us all there for the purpose of disinheriting Ross by crossing his name from his will, and in the presence of witnesses substituting another instead."
"And whose name, may I ask?"
She bent her head suddenly, and put one hand against her cheek.
"Mine, Mr. Deland."
"Yours?... Oho! And not young Cyril's, then?"
"No. Upon that Father was adamant. He said justice must be done to the elder family—that is Ross and me, as you know—and he would see justice done. If Ross could not have the rightful inheritance because of his unfitness (poor Ross!) then it was to come to me, unless I saw fit to marry Captain Macdonald. In that event it all went to charity. Naturally, I protested with him."
"Why?"
"Because, don't you see? I hoped he would perhaps relent and leave Ross's name where it was. The ignominy to the poor boy would have been so terrible—if he had struck his name out. Ross would never have got over it—never! He is so proud of his house, so wrapped up in it in every way."