“Oh, going abroad? The wanderlust again? That’s too bad. We shall all miss you so much.” She spoke the words with real concern in her tone and in her eyes.
“Not exactly the wanderlust,” he responded. “But there is a certain task I must perform. And it takes me away—far away from your delightful La Siesta.”
“And for a long time?”
“That will be decided by events. I shall write you a long letter when once I am on the ocean. Meanwhile there are certain documents I wish to leave in your charge, my good kind friend.”
He drew the packet from the breast pocket of his coat. “They are important papers, and I wish them to be locked in your safe.”
“Under seal, I see,” she remarked, indicating the big circle of wax that closed the cover.
“Yes, sealed with my signet,” he answered, touching the ring on his finger. “But all the same I wish you to know the nature of their contents. That is why I have sought this little private talk.”
Silently she settled herself to listen, and he went on:
“You are aware that many years ago I sold out all my interests in Spain—lands and flocks and mines. Well, except for the money I used in building and furnishing my home, I invested the whole amount so realized in British Government bonds. But not in my own name. They stand in the names of Merle Farnsworth and Grace Darlington.”
Mrs. Darlington showed some surprise.