The lawyer glanced at her rather sharply.
“The last will is in your favour,” he replied. “Everything is left to you unconditionally. This house—all my client’s property—her real and personal estate. Everything in short.”
Anne turned a shade paler. She did not understand, but she was aware that the little grey-haired man before her, was making what seemed to him at least, an important announcement.
At the end of half-an-hour’s conversation, she followed him to the door, still unable to grasp the significance of his words.
“The will, as I say, is most simple,” he remarked. “Everything is quite straightforward, and we ought to be able to get the whole thing through speedily. In the meantime, I congratulate you, Miss Page,” he added dryly. “Apart from the income, Fairholme Court is a most delightful residence.” He glanced about him. “Most delightful,” he added.
Anne shook hands with him, and went slowly back to the library.
Dinner was served as usual by the quiet maids, whose demeanour since the death of their mistress, had assumed an added shade of decorous gravity.
They liked Anne, and their manner towards her expressed a kindliness and sympathy for which she was grateful.
To-night, she scarcely noticed their solicitude, and the dishes they set before her were taken away almost untasted.
She wandered into the library again after her lonely meal, and began to pace the floor aimlessly.