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Page 4
"Has he begun asking questions?" demanded Ransford hastily.
"Once or twice, lately--yes," replied Mary. "It's only
natural." She laughed a little--a forced laugh. "They say,"
she went on, "that it doesn't matter, nowadays, if you can't
tell who your grandfather was--but, just think, we don't know
who our father was--except that his name was John Bewery.
That doesn't convey much."
"You know more," said Ransford. "I told you--always have told
you--that he was an early friend of mine, a man of business,
who, with your mother, died young, and I, as their friend,
became guardian to you and Dick. Is--is there anything much
more that I could tell?"
"There's something I should very much like to know
--personally," she answered, after a pause which lasted so
long that Ransford began to feel uncomfortable under it.
"Don't be angry--or hurt--if I tell you plainly what it is.
I'm quite sure it's never even occurred to Dick--but I'm three
years ahead of him. It's this--have we been dependent on
you?"
Ransford's face flushed and he turned deliberately to the
window, and for a moment stood staring out on his garden and
the glimpses of the Cathedral. And just as deliberately as he
had turned away, he turned back.
"No!" he said. "Since you ask me, I'll tell you that. You've
both got money--due to you when you're of age. It--it's in my
hands. Not a great lot--but sufficient to--to cover all your
expenses. Education--everything. When you're twenty-one,
I'll hand over yours--when Dick's twenty-one, his. Perhaps I
ought to have told you all that before, but--I didn't think it
necessary. I--I dare say I've a tendency to let things
slide."
"You've never let things slide about us," she replied quickly,
with a sudden glance which made him turn away again. "And I
only wanted to know--because I'd got an idea that--well, that
we were owing everything to you."
"Not from me!" he exclaimed.
"No--that would never be!" she said. "But--don't you
understand? I--wanted to know--something. Thank you. I won't
ask more now."
"I've always meant to tell you--a good deal," remarked
Ransford, after another pause. "You see, I can scarcely--yet
--realize that you're both growing up! You were at school a
year ago. And Dick is still very young. Are--are you more
satisfied now?" he went on anxiously. "If not--"
"I'm quite satisfied," she answered. "Perhaps--some day
--you'll tell me more about our father and mother?--but never
mind even that now. You're sure you haven't minded my asking
--what I have asked?"
"Of course not--of course not!" he said hastily. "I ought to
have remembered. And--but we'll talk again. I must get into
the surgery--and have a word with Bryce, too."
"If you could only make him see reason and promise not to
offend again," she said. "Wouldn't that solve the
difficulty?"
Ransford shook his head and made no answer. He picked up his
letters again and went out, and down a long stone-walled
passage which led to his surgery at the side of the house. He
was alone there when he had shut the door--and he relieved his
feelings with a deep groan.
"Heaven help me if the lad ever insists on the real truth and
on having proofs and facts given to him!" he muttered. "I
shouldn't mind telling her, when she's a bit older--but he
wouldn't understand as she would. Anyway, thank God I can
keep up the pleasant fiction about the money without her
ever knowing that I told her a deliberate lie just now. But
--what's in the future? Here's one man to be dismissed
already, and there'll be others, and one of them will be the
favoured man. That man will have to be told! And--so will
she, then. And--my God! she doesn't see, and mustn't see,
that I'm madly in love with her myself! She's no idea of it
--and she shan't have; I must--must continue to be--only the
guardian!"
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