"
She sighed.
"I am only human, you know," she went on. "Every one told me
that Wenham was a millionaire, too. See how much I have
benefited by it. I am almost penniless, I do not know whether he
is dead or alive, I do not know what to do to get some money.
Was Wenham very rich, Jerry?"
The man laughed.
"Oh, he was very rich indeed!" he assured her. "It is terrible
that you should be left like this. We will talk about it
together presently, you and I. In the meantime, you must let me
be your banker."
"Dear Jerry," she whispered, "you were always generous."
"You have not spoken of the little prude--dear Miss Beatrice," he
reminded her suddenly.
Elizabeth sighed.
"Beatrice was a great trial from the first," she declared. "You
know how she disliked you both--she was scarcely even civil to
Wenham, and she would never have come to Europe with us if father
hadn't insisted upon it. We took her down to Cornwall with us
and there she became absolutely insupportable. She was always
interfering between Wenham and me and imagining the most absurd
things. One day she left us without a word of warning. I have
never seen her since."
The man stared gloomily into his plate.
"She was a queer little thing," he muttered. "She was good, and
she seemed to like being good."
Elizabeth laughed, not quite pleasantly.
"You speak as though the rest of us," she remarked, "were
qualified to take orders in wickedness."
He helped himself to more brandy.
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