“That is very kind of you, Mr. Germain,” Mary said—but without enthusiasm. After a few more efforts, the worthy man left her alone.
It was then Mrs. James’s turn. She came in, after knocking, with the telegram in her hand.
“This, I think, belongs to you,” she said.
Mary took it, read it, and remembered. A quick flush of colour showed that she did.
“Yes,” she said, “but it is of no importance now.” And she tore it across.
But Mrs. James was not to be balked. “You must allow me to explain its importance. It was found in the envelope containing the codicil to my dear brother’s will—a codicil which he made within two days of your receiving it.”
Mary, still looking out of the window, commented idly. “A codicil? Was there a codicil? That meant that you changed your mind, didn’t it?”
“In this case,” said Mrs. James, “it means, I think, that my dear brother explained his mind. I thought that the Rector might have informed you.”
“No,” said Mary. Mrs. James cleared her throat and began to enjoy herself.
“By that he left five hundred a year to my cousin Tristram Duplessis—so long as he remained unmarried.”