Ruyler made a rapid calculation. Aileen Lawton was just about three years
older than Helene. She was fair like her father. There was no resemblance
between her and his wife, but the intimacy between them had been
spontaneous and had never lapsed. She had grown up quite unrestrained and
spoilt, and broken three engagements, and was always rushing about
proclaiming in one breath, that California was the greatest place on
earth and in the next that she should go mad if she didn't get out and
have a change. Another grievance was that although her father let her
have her own way, or rather did not pretend to control her, he gave her a
rather niggardly allowance for her personal expenses and she was supposed
to be heavily in debt. Ruyler thought he could guess where a good deal of
his wife's spare cash had gone to. He disliked Aileen Lawton as much as
he did Polly Roberts; more, if anything, because she might have been
clever and she chose to be a fool. Both of these intimate friends of his
wife were the reverse of the superb outdoor type he admired.
"Good Lord!" he said. "I don't think there's much choice."
But in a moment he shook his head. "Too many things don't connect. Where
did she get the money to go to her relations in Rouen--"
"He pensioned her off, of course."
"And the child? How did he consent to let her return here with a daughter
he probably never had heard of--"
"I figger out, either that she came into some money from a relation over
in France, or else she has something on the old boy, and wanting to come
back here and marry her daughter, she held him up. He's a pillar of the
church, been one of the Presidents of the Pacific-Union Club, has argued
cases before the Supreme Court that have been cabled all over the
country. When a man of that sort gets to Lawton's time of life he don't
want any scandals."
"All the same," said Ruyler positively, "I don't believe it. I think it
far more likely that he was a friend of Madame Delano's husband--assuming
that she had one--and that some money was left with him in trust for her
or the child."
"Well, it may be, but I incline to Lawton--"
"There's one person would know--"
"'Gene Bisbee. But I never went to that bunch yet for any information,
and I don't go this time except as a last resort. Of course he knows, and
that is one reason I believe she is Mrs. Lawton. He was Gabrielle's
maquereau for years--when he'd wrung enough out of her he set up for
himself--Well, I ain't through yet, by a long sight. Beliefs ain't
proof." He rose slowly from the deep chair, stretched himself, and
settled his hat firmly on his head.