"You may on the contrary find out much that puzzled people at the time of his death. No one understands how he managed to lose all his money;" and then being a discreet woman she stopped short—she must not say a word to set Mrs. Dorriman against her brother.
"Do you think it might do good?" the poor woman said, with a flash in her eyes—a ray of hope—that gleamed there for a moment and faded again. "No!" she repeated, "I cannot do it now. I cannot risk it."
Mrs. Macfarlane felt she had no right to urge her to pursue any course of action, when she was ignorant of the real history of her past, and could not foresee the consequences; but she went to summon her husband.
Mr. Macfarlane was not quite so willing as his wife to throw himself into the situation. Her warm heart often led her to take responsibilities his caution would rather have done without.
As usual, his reluctance did away with any doubts still lingering in Mrs. Dorriman's mind; the moment a thing is difficult or unattainable it becomes desirable.
He accepted the trust, however, and then suddenly said, "Are your marriage settlements in your brother's hands?"
"My marriage settlements? I never had any that I know of," she answered, helplessly.
"Never had any marriage settlements?" He could hardly believe her.
"No, at least I never knew of any. I suppose I should know all about anything affecting me in that way."
"I suppose so." He mused for a moment. The same thought that had occurred to his wife came to him in a still stronger shape. He must say nothing that would raise her suspicions about her brother, or that in any way would make her going to his house more painful than it evidently was.