“Indeed I am,” was the semi-grave response. “I have had a shock.”
“A very sharp one, sir?”
“Sharp as steel. Really and truly,” he went on in a different tone, as he left the chair and stood up by the table, facing her; “I have just heard news that may affect my whole future life; may change me from a rich man to a poor one.”
“Oh, Mr. Carradyne!” Her manner had changed now.
“I was the destined inheritor, as you know—for I’m sure nobody has been reticent upon the subject—of these broad lands,” with a sweep of the hand towards the plains outside. “Captain Monk is now pleased to inform me that he thinks of substituting for me Mrs. Hamlyn’s child.”
“But would not that be very unjust?”
“Hardly fair—as it seems to me. Considering that my good uncle obliged me to give up my own prospects for it.”
She stood, her hands clasped in sympathy, her face full of earnest sadness. “How unkind! Why, it would be cruel!”
“Well, I confess I felt it to be so at the first blow. But, standing at the outside window yonder, pulling myself together, a ray or two of light crept in, showing me that it may be for the best after all. ‘Whatever is, is right,’ you know.”