“No,” said Stephen shortly.
“Suppose you tell me just how the matter came up, and what he said. I promise you I'll use nothing of what you say.”
Stephen's cheeks reddened angrily.
“I thought this was a matter of mutual confidence,” he said haughtily.
“Well, so it is, that's what I say, but I'd like to bet that Benson said nothing that would be of any use to anybody. But I understand just how you feel, and frankly, I don't see how you can afford to take sides with us. I am trying to make your aunt see this, but she will only see that you are a Landray, and that this is a holy war we are going to wage against Benson for the recovery of the Landray fortune. For the money itself as money, I don't think she cares the snap of her finger; and if you'll believe me, Steve, she's doing the whole thing for you!”
“For me!” cried Stephen.
“For you. She has no confidence in Benson, you see, and she doesn't think he will ever do anything for you, so she's going to take care of your future. She's a remarkable character; her motives are as plain and straight as a string; no ins and outs to her mental processes!”
“Do you think I could induce her to drop the whole affair right here and now?” demanded Stephen eagerly.
“Not if I can balk you,” said Wade, with simple candour. “Steve, if this thing goes through I'll be building one of those dinky little Queen Anne's up along side of Norton's big house. He's got a vacant lot he ain't going to want, and it's at my disposal the minute I'm ready to build. Elinor says she's told you all about Clara. Wait until you see her!—there is a girl!” he sucked at his pipe with smiling wistful lips. “Don't you take a hand in this and spoil my little romance! I've had a hell of a hard row to hoe, and old Benson won't mind the loss of forty or fifty thousand dollars once he familiarizes himself thoroughly with the idea; and I'm not alone in wanting to see the thing pushed for all there is in it. Mrs. Walsh and the Nortons are tremendously anxious to see your aunt get the best of Benson”—he chuckled at some memory—“Mrs. Walsh thinks it would be lovely for her to get all that money—I heard her say, 'You know you need it, Virginia, and deserve it.' And look here, Steve, your aunt's got nothing much to anticipate in the way of money unless she sells her cottage and rents or buys a cheaper place. You're interested in Benson. Now, try and see her side of it, too. I understand she did everything she could for your father; and you owe her something on his account, just as you owe Benson something on your own account. Now, I've looked into Benson's affairs as far as I could, and I've learned some things about him that are not generally known. In the first place, when your grandfather. Thomas Benson, failed in business, Benson was involved with him. From what I can learn I understand that he was pretty nearly ruined, and that he came out of the failure up to his neck in debt. It was at this critical moment in his fortunes that he got hold of that land. The price he got for it put him on his feet; he was shrewd and he was fortunate in all his investments. That was the beginning of his great wealth. Of course, he's been kind to you; one step in the wrong direction don't prove that a man's soul is sown to corruption; but the way I look at it, it was really your aunt's money you have been spending. That he was able to be generous to you, must have been a sort of sop to his conscience.”
Stephen writhed in his chair. Wade, seeking to palliate and explain Benson's wrong doing was more painful than Wade denouncing him for it, for his argument seemed born of the gospel of expediency; and what Stephen saw in the situation, Wade, thick-skinned and callous, with a shrewd intelligence that he had developed at the expense of all finer feeling, did not see even vaguely. He was remote from spiritual consciousness of any sort; he dwelt in an atmosphere of unrelated facts.