'I was a fool, or worse,' said he, in a tone of suffering. 'No words can describe what she proved herself.'
'Self-possessed? energetic?' asked Mrs. Henley, with whom those were the first of qualities; and as her brother paused from repugnance to speak of Amabel to one so little capable of comprehending her, she proceeded: 'No doubt she did the best she could, but she must have been quite inexperienced. It was a very young thing in the poor youth to make her executrix. I wonder the will was valid; but I suppose you took care of that.'
'I did nothing.'
'Did you see it?'
'My uncle showed it to me.'
'Then you can tell me what I want to hear, for no one has told me anything. I suppose my uncle is to be guardian?'
'No; Lady Morville.'
'You don't mean it? Most lover-like indeed. That poor girl to manage that great property? Everything left to her!' said Mrs. Henley, continuing her catechism in spite of the unwillingness of his replies. 'Were there any legacies? I know of Miss Wellwood's.'
'That to Dixon's daughter, and my own,' he answered.
'Yours? How was it that I never heard of it? What is it?'
'Ten thousand,' said Philip, sadly.
'I am delighted to hear it!' cried Margaret. 'Very proper of Sir Guy--very proper indeed, poor youth. It is well thought of to soften the disappointment.'
Philip started forward. 'Disappointment!' exclaimed he, with horror.
'You need not look as if I wished to commit murder,' said his sister, smiling. 'Have you forgotten that it depends on whether it is a son or daughter?'
His dismay was not lessened. 'Do you mean to say that this is to come on me if the child is a daughter?'
'Ah! you were so young when the entail was made, that you knew nothing of it. Female heirs were expressly excluded. There was some aunt whom old Sir Guy passed over, and settled the property on my father and you, failing his own male heirs.'
'No one would take advantage of such a chance,' said Philip.
'Do not make any rash resolutions, my dear brother, whatever you do,' said Margaret. 'You have still the same fresh romantic generous spirit of self-sacrifice that is generally so soon worn out, but you must not let it allow you--'
'Enough of this,' said Philip, hastily, for every word was a dagger.
'Ah! you are right not to dwell on the uncertainty. I am almost sorry I told you,' said Margaret. 'Tell me about Miss Wellwood's legacy,' she continued, desirous of changing the subject. 'I want to know the truth of it, for every one is talking of it.''How comes the world to know of it?'