"That is very true, Marion; very true," admitted the aunt, ruefully. Then, after a pause, she brightened up wonderfully, and cried in a triumphant voice: "I have it, Marion--I have it! It is a chapter of one of his novels he has sent you by mistake."
"But," said May despairingly, pointing to the documents at her feet, "what are these? I did not read out all the letter, aunt. He tells me, after where I stopped, to go with these things to Macklin and Dowell, his solicitors, ask them to read the papers over, and await further instructions until he comes up to town."
The aunt was not going to be baffled. She pondered a long time, and at last cried out cheerfully:
"But, Marion, my dear, his solicitors and the other solicitors may find out some flaw--some flaw that may spoil all."
The girl shot a bright glance up.
"Oh, aunt, thank you for that hope. It was good of you to think of it. I hope with all my heart it may be so."
Marion stooped down and gathered up all the papers at her feet.
For a long time neither spoke. May sat with her lap full of papers, and her eyes fixed dully upon them. Miss Traynor had fallen into a deep reverie, her elbow on the white cloth of the breakfast-table, her white round chin dropped into her white round hand. The elder was the first to speak, and when she did it was in a very timid and apologetic way, as though she was more than half ashamed of referring to such a subject.
"Isn't a duke the greatest after the Queen and the Princes and the Princesses, May?"
"I believe so."