“I think I know what you mean,” he said; “the man just arrived at maturity neither makes allowances for those older or younger than himself. It is the conceit that covers the just-grown-up as with a garment. But it is a garment which soon grows too small for a man with a fine nature—luckily. Philip is centered in his work at present, and all outside it is of but little importance. He is made of such good stuff, however, that it will not take long for him to look with different eyes on things outside himself.”
“We must remember, too, that Philip has had a great sorrow,” Mrs. Barrimore reminded the Colonel.
“Yes, I know,” answered her companion. “An inward pain such as his can’t fail to make him exaggerate annoyances. Do you think he is getting over it, dear Mrs. Barrimore?”
“I fear not,” she answered; “but it all happened only a year ago, you see. Philip wants to find out Eweretta’s half-sister, and help her.”
“Half-sister?” repeated the Colonel. “Had Miss Alvin a half-sister, then?”
“Yes, it is a very sad story. Aimée Le Breton was not legitimate. She was the living image of Eweretta, and both girls were the image of their father, and nearly the same age. The poor girl was weak-minded, so it was said, and lived with her mother at Qu’Appelle, in Canada. They have gone away no one seems to know where. Mr. Alvin left everything to Eweretta, and not a penny to Aimée or her mother. Eweretta died suddenly at Mrs. Le Breton’s house. She had gone over to Qu’Appelle to tell Aimée she should share with her—and she died of heart disease, so it was said. She was buried before Philip heard a word.”
“And what became of the money?” demanded the Colonel rather sharply.
“John Alvin’s brother Thomas came into it. It was willed so. If Eweretta died unmarried, Thomas was to take all.”
“My dear Mrs. Barrimore,” said the Colonel, “this is the first I have heard of this amazing story. Up to now I have only heard that Miss Alvin died. What kind of a man was Thomas Alvin?”
“He had always been unlucky, I know that,” replied Mrs. Barrimore. “He was a thirteenth son, and the only one who survived John. He failed in everything he touched, and was known as ‘The Thirteenth Man.’ I have heard that men sometimes refused to work with him for fear he should bring them ill-luck. And now you know all I know.”