"I expect, when all the legacies and other expenses are paid, there will be little over six thousand pounds. There ought to have been double. Lady Oswald lost a large sum a few years ago, quite as much as that. She put it into some prosperous-looking bubble, and it burst. Women should never dabble in business. They are safe to get their fingers burnt."
"Men have burnt theirs sometimes," was the answer of Dr. Davenal, spoken significantly. "Six thousand pounds! I should have thought her worth much more. Well, Mr. Wedderburn, you will carry out my instructions."
"Of course, if you order me. Will you be so kind as to write those instructions to me at your convenience, posting them from this town to my house. I am going back home at once."
"Won't you see Mr. Stephenson and his brother first, and impart to them the fact that I shall not take the money?"
"No," said the lawyer, "I want to go home by the next train. I wish, Dr. Davenal, you would allow me to give you just one word of advice."
"You can give it me," said Dr. Davenal. "I don't promise to take it."
"It might be the better for you if you would," was the reply. "My advice is, say nothing to the Stephensons, or to any one else, today. This is a very strange resolution that you have expressed, and I beg you to sleep upon it. A night's rest may serve to change your mind."
The lawyer departed. It was close upon the hour for Dr. Davenal to receive his indoor patients, and he could not go out then. He went to look for his daughter, and found her in the garden parlour with her aunt. It was not often that Miss Bettina troubled that room--she had been wont to tell Sara and Caroline that its litter set her teeth on edge.
They began to talk to him of the funeral. It was natural they should do so. In a country place these somewhat unusual occurrences of everyday life are made much of. Miss Bettina was curious.
"Were the people from Thorndyke there?" she asked.