Chapter V. Randal Writes to New York.
The members of the family at Mount Morven consulted together, before Sydney Westerfield was informed of her brother’s disappearance and of her mother’s death.
Speaking first, as master of the house, Herbert Linley offered his opinion without hesitation. His impulsive kindness shrank from the prospect of reviving the melancholy recollections associated with Sydney’s domestic life. “Why distress the poor child, just as she is beginning to feel happy among us?” he asked. “Give me the newspaper; I shan’t feel easy till I have torn it up.”
His wife drew the newspaper out of his reach. “Wait a little,” she said, quietly; “some of us may feel that it is no part of our duty to conceal the truth.”
Mrs. Presty spoke next. To the surprise of the family council, she agreed with her son-in-law.
“Somebody must speak out,” the old lady began; “and I mean to set the example. Telling the truth,” she declared, turning severely to her daughter, “is a more complicated affair than you seem to think. It’s a question of morality, of course; but—in family circles, my dear—it’s sometimes a question of convenience as well. Is it convenient to upset my granddaughter’s governess, just as she is entering on her new duties? Certainly not! Good heavens, what does it matter to my young friend Sydney whether her unnatural mother lives or dies? Herbert, I second your proposal to tear up the paper with the greatest pleasure.”
Herbert, sitting next to Randal, laid his hand affectionately on his brother’s shoulder. “Are you on our side?” he asked.
Randal hesitated.
“I feel inclined to agree with you,” he said to Herbert. “It does seem hard to recall Miss Westerfield to the miserable life that she has led, and to do it in the way of all others which must try her fortitude most cruelly. At the same time—”