Of course, he know nothing that had happened during the night; but a strange foreboding of ill oppressed him. He found old Tankard and Higgins on the lawn; and, after a brief converse with them, he was proceeding to the stables, when Norris came up and begged to have a word with him, and they went into the library together.
“I am going to ask you a singular question, sir,” said the old butler; “and I will explain my motive for doing so presently. Do you think this marriage with Mrs. Calverley and Lord Courland will really take place?”
“I believe it will, Norris,” replied Chetwynd. “I see nothing to prevent it. I don't know whether all the preliminary arrangements are settled; but his lordship appears perfectly satisfied. And so he ought to be, if what I hear is true.”
“It will be more advantageous to you than to him,” said Norris.
“I don't understand you,” rejoined Chetwynd, regarding him fixedly.
“When I say advantageous to you, sir, I mean to your sister,” observed the butler. “But it cannot fail to be beneficial to you. You ought to pray that the marriage may take place, instead of opposing it.”
“What the deuce are you driving at, Norris?”
“It appears to me, sir, that you have never read your father's will.”
“You are right; I have not. But I know that the property is left entirely to his wife.”
“Very true, sir—very true. But there is a most important proviso, of which you are evidently ignorant. In the event of the widow marrying again, she forfeits the property, which then goes to the testator's daughter, Mildred.”