Jack hesitated a moment, tugging at his moustache with his unoccupied hand.
“I didn’t say that, you know. I never told you that he did.”
“Jack!”
The name slipped out so naturally on the surprise of the moment that there was a prolonged interval in the conversation, while Jack acknowledged the compliment. Then Mollie returned to the attack, laughing and rosy.
“You asked if I were surprised. You said everyone had taken it for granted!”
“Exactly; so I did. But for once everyone was mistaken. Druce has not come in for the property.”
“Then, who—who—”
“Someone equally unworthy—an ungracious rascal of a fellow called Melland. It is all mine, Mollie—all that there is to leave!”
And then Jack did a pretty thing—a thing that he would have sneered at as high-flown and sentimental a few months before; but no man really knows himself or his capabilities till he loves and is beloved. He slipped off his seat, and knelt on the floor at Mollie’s feet.
“And I have come to you,” he said gravely, “to ask you to share it with me, for it’s worth nothing, and worse than nothing, if I have not you by my side!”