“Not in this case; Evelyn loses her fortune if she marries without her mother’s consent.”
“Ah, indeed? And who inherits the fortune in case Mrs. Burnham’s consent is withheld?”
“Mrs. Burnham.”
“Oh!” Maynard stared blankly at the architect. “An unjust will,” he said gravely. “It is unfair to Evelyn, very; she has either to marry to please her mother, or select a wealthy man; or——” He paused.
“Or what?”
“Choose love in a cottage.”
Palmer shrugged his shoulders. “To a girl brought up to expect every luxury and never count the cost, love in a cottage hasn’t a great appeal—except in the movies. I know I shan’t have an easy time winning Evelyn,” he admitted in a sudden burst of candor. “She is very popular, but in the end,” his jaw snapped, “Americans should marry Americans.”
Maynard’s eyebrows rose slightly; so Palmer was aware of René La Montagne’s courtship of Evelyn! Had he gained that information the night before or was the affair common gossip?
“Heard anything further about the mysterious dead man?” he inquired.
Palmer looked glum. “Not a thing,” he admitted. “I called up Coroner Penfield to-day at Burnham’s request to ask when the inquest would take place, and was told that a preliminary examination had been held, the body put in a receiving vault, and upon further developments the inquest will be continued.”