'Did you hear anything about the last night's?'
'No,' she said; 'I heard nothing of that.'
'Ford appeared quite satisfied then?'
'Yes, quite,' she answered, with difficulty; for his eyes were fixed on
her, and she felt he knew she was not telling the truth. The conversation
paused again, and to turn it into another channel she said, 'Why, you have
not opened your letter!'
'I can see it is a lawyer's letter, on account of some unpaid bill. If I
could pay it, I would; but as I can't----'
'You are afraid to open it,' said Rose.
Ashamed of his weakness, Hubert opened the letter, and began to read. Rose
saw that the letter was not such an one as he had expected, and a moment
after his face told her that fortunate news had come to him. The signs of
the tumult within were represented by the passing of the hand across the
brow, as if to brush aside some strange hallucination, and the sudden
coming of a vague look of surprise and fear into the eyes. He said,--
'Read it! Read it!'
Relieved of much detail and much cumbersome legal circumlocution, it was to
the following effect:--That about three months ago Mr. Burnett had come up
from his place in Sussex, and at the offices of Messrs. Grandly & Co. had
made a will, in which he had disinherited his adopted daughter, Miss Emily
Watson, and left everything to Mr. Hubert Price. There was no question as
to the validity of the will; but Messrs. Grandly deemed it their duty to
inform Mr. Hubert Price of the circumstances under which it had been made,
and also of the fact that a few weeks before his death Mr. Burnett had told
Mr. John Grandly, who was then staying with Mr. Burnett at Ashwood, that he
intended adding a codicil, leaving some two or three hundred a year to Miss
Watson. It was unfortunate that Mr. Burnett had not had time to do this;
for Miss Watson was an orphan, eighteen years of age, and entirely
unprovided for. Messrs. Grandly begged to submit these facts to the
consideration of Mr. Hubert Price. Miss Watson was now residing at Ashwood.
She was there with a friend of hers, Mrs. Bentley; and should Mr. Hubert
Price feel inclined to do what Mr. Burnett had left undone, Messrs. Grandly
would have very great pleasure in carrying his wishes into effect.
'I'm not dreaming, am I?'
'No, you are not. It is quite true. Your uncle has left his money to you. I
am so glad; indeed I am. You will be able to finish your play, and take a
theatre and produce it yourself if you like. I hope you won't forget me. I
do want to play that part. You can't quite know what I shall do with it.
One can't explain oneself in a scene here and there.... What are you
thinking of?'
'I'm thinking of that poor girl, Emily Watson. It comes very hard upon
her.'
'Who is she?'
'The girl my uncle disinherited.'
'Oh, she! Well, you can marry her if you like. That would not be a bad
notion. But if you do, you'll forget all about me and Lady Hayward.'
'No; I shall never forget you, Rose.' He stretched his hand to her; but,
irrespective of his will, the gesture seemed full of farewell.
'I'm so much obliged to you,' he said; 'had it not been for you, I might
never have opened that letter.'
'Even if you hadn't, it wouldn't have mattered; you would have heard of
your good fortune some other way. But it is getting very late. I must say
good-night. I hope you will have a pleasant time in the country, and will
finish your play. Good-night.'
Returning from the door, he stopped to think. 'We have been very good
friends--that is all. How strangely determined she is!... More so than I
am. She is bound to succeed. There is in her just that note of individual
passion.... Perhaps some one will find her out before I have
finished,--that would be a pity. I wonder which of us will succeed first?'
Then the madness of good fortune came upon him suddenly; he could think no
more of Rose, and had to go for a long walk in the streets.