“Yes, I know that.”
She bent forward in her chair, her hands clasped in her lap. She was wholly composed and heedful.
“Your father’s powers have been absolute. He is not required to give an accounting to any one—except, of course, to you, when he turns over the property on your birthday—that is, to-morrow.”
“Yes, I believe to-morrow is the first of October. I understand perfectly that mother wished me to know that she trusted father,—as she expected me to trust him. That is all very simple.”
There was a little sting in this, as though she knew what was coming and wished to warn her uncle to desist. He shot a sharp glance at the girl from his black eyes and went on, patiently and kindly.
“That is all very well. Everything was left to your father’s discretion, but there were a few minor requirements. In case he should sell real estate, he was to get the approval of the court; and he was to buy other real estate with whatever he realized.”
“That’s probably important, but not amusing. I really dropped in to ask what you were going to give me for my birthday. I’m almost sorry I came.”
“Your father has sold some of the real estate—”
“Of course. You escape a lot of trouble by not having real estate, so father says,—taxes and all that. But once more, pardon me!”
The color was dying out of her face and she twisted her fingers together nervously. Her heart was beating fiercely. It had come at last,—this hour in which she must face an attack upon her father. She had known that it would come, and she knew that she should meet it. It angered her that the terms her uncle used were unfamiliar. Law and business were unknown worlds to her. She again followed her uncle’s recital closely; he was speaking with a sharp precision that he had never used before in talking to her.