"It will certainly not prove to be that," replied Ella, decisively. "On that point I can speak with confidence."
"You will not tell me who it was who gave you this information?"
"I would rather not; at least, at present. It was--I think I may say," she added somewhat hesitatingly--"an old friend."
"A very queer friend, it seems to me. He must have had a motive: what was it?"
"Pardon me," she rejoined, "but that is not the question. Let us assume, if you like, that the motive is not altogether unknown to me. What then? We are still no nearer what I want to know: whether it is possible that there can be any truth in the allegation."
"But the motive might be a malicious one. In which case----"
"Pardon me again, but the point is this," she interposed. "Is there anything within your knowledge of my uncle's affairs which would lead you to believe that the slightest possibility of fraud, in connection with my inheritance of his property, can exist?"
"No. It does not appear to me that the slightest possibility can exist of anything of the kind," continued Mr. Daventry. "I drew up your uncle's will in accordance with his instructions and his well-known wishes, and the will was duly signed and witnessed. Had he died before his seventieth birthday, the will would have been worthless, so far as the estate went, which would have lapsed to the other Gilbert Denison. Your uncle's savings you would still inherit, but not Heron Dyke. On the other hand, if he lived over his birthday, the property would be yours beyond possibility of dispute."
"And, as you can testify, he did live over it," returned Ella, feeling relieved.
Mr. Daventry smiled. "My dear young lady, I could not testify to anything of the kind. We lawyers are cautious men. As I did not see your uncle subsequently to his birthday, I could not testify to it."