“And, although it will probably never benefit us,� said Elizabeth finally, “for Richard Skelton is as likely to live as we are, yet it may some day benefit our children.�
“But I don’t see why it shouldn’t benefit us,� said Blair drily. “Nothing is easier than to get a copy of that will, and somebody can be found who will risk something upon such magnificent chances. I daresay Skelton himself would be glad to compromise with us for a handsome sum if we would convey all our interest in the property back to him.�
Elizabeth listened, startled and annoyed. She had felt some qualms at the idea that, even if Lewis Pryor should make a successful fight for his supposed parentage, her children should inherit money that was only theirs through accident and bungling. But there was nobody else with any better right to it, for the late Mrs. Skelton had fully determined that her own family should not have it. And besides, it would be after Skelton’s death—for she did not for a moment suppose that he would marry. But this way of setting up an immediate claim to it offended her. Being a singularly high-minded woman, she did not value money very greatly, and had many delicate scruples regarding it.
“But—but—you don’t mean that you would take any steps—� she asked hesitatingly.
“Just wait and see,� answered Blair promptly. “And Skelton may marry, remember. I think he admires Sylvia Shapleigh very much; and you may depend upon it, I sha’n’t refuse anything that is mine.�
Elizabeth for the first time in her life felt a little disgusted with him.
“I am afraid you are not as high-minded as I thought you,� she said after a moment.
Blair withdrew his arm from around her with displeasure written all over his strong, expressive face. He began to finger his cigar, which was a hint that she had better leave him. Usually Elizabeth never remained a moment after she found she was trespassing, but to-night she sat quite still. A quarrel between two extremely refined, courteous, and attached persons is none the less bitter because each one is scrupulously polite. Blair said, after a few moments:
“Your remark is quite uncalled for, and let me tell you, Elizabeth, a man knows much more about these things than a woman. A man must be trusted to manage his own affairs; and if he is incapable, another man ought to be appointed his conservator.�
Blair had mismanaged his own affairs so beautifully that this sentiment was peculiarly absurd coming from him. He glanced at Elizabeth and saw something like a half-smile upon her face. She said nothing, but her silence was eloquent. Blair wished then for the thousandth time that Elizabeth would show her displeasure as other women did—with tears and unguarded words and reproaches, or even as Mrs. Shapleigh did.