“You are right, Maria,” said Thomas. “I have thought of it until I am bewildered.”
Maria seemed to be getting bewildered also. She was thinking of it in its every aspect and bearing. Many little past incidents, proving that her husband was ill at ease, had something on his mind, rushed into her memory. She had not thought much of them before: but they grew strangely vivid now. To miss deeds of this value would amply account for it.
“Thomas,” said she, speaking out her thoughts, “do you not think George must have feared there was something wrong, when he missed them at first? I do.”
“No. Why do you think it?”
“Because——” Maria stopped. It suddenly occurred to her that it might not be quite right to comment upon her husband’s manner, what it had, or what it had not been; that he might not like her to do so, although it was only to his brother and sister. So she turned it off: speaking any indifferent words that came uppermost.
“It is curious, missing a packet of deeds of that value from its place, that he should not have feared it might be missing altogether.”
“The very fact of his not asking me about it, Maria, proves that no suspicion of wrong crossed his mind,” was the comment of Thomas Godolphin. “He supposed I had placed it elsewhere.”
“That’s just like George!” repeated Janet. “Taking things on trust, as he takes people! A child might deceive him.”
“I hope we shall find them yet,” said Thomas Godolphin.
“Does Lord Averil——”