“She was relieved by my words; I know she was relieved. She began reading the will with avidity. If I could find nothing else to admire about her, I could at least admire her candour.
“‘He’s left me five hundred a year,’ she said abruptly, ‘and the rest to some archi—what is it? society. Five hundred a year, and he had a thousand!’
“‘Oh, come, Belle,’ said the handsome man, ‘that’s better than nothing.’
“She let her eyes dwell on his face with real affection, real kindliness.
“‘Let’s have a look at that will,’ he murmured lazily.
“She passed it across to him, sat down on a stool, clasped her knees, and became meditative.
“‘Poor old Angus!’ she repeated. ‘Fancy that! Well, he was rare fun in his day, wasn’t he, Dick?’
“‘No end of a dog,’ replied Dick without removing his eyes from the will.
“‘Perhaps, if there are no questions you want to ask me, I had better be going now,’ I began. I was bewildered, for MacPherson, in spite of his eccentricities, had undoubtedly been a scholar and a man of refinement.
“Dick stirred from his spoilt torpor.