“That is to say,” pursued Isabel, looking at the fringe of her shawl, “you know the details of Mr. Clarendon’s will?”
“Precisely,” was his word, as he tapped the table.
Isabel smiled, a smile different from that with which she was wont to charm. It was one almost of self-contempt, and full of bitter memories.
“I had never heard of her,” she continued, “until I was called upon to take her as my own child. Then she was sent to me from people who had had the care of her since she was three years old.”
Asquith slowly nodded, wrinkling his forehead.
“Well, we will speak no more of that. What I wish to ask you to do for me is this:--Oh, I am ashamed to speak of it! It is something that I ought to have done myself already. But I am a coward; I have always been a coward. I can’t face the consequences of my own--my own baseness; that is the true word. Will you tell Ada Warren what her real position is, and what mine?”
“I have every reason to believe so. I don’t think any one will have told her.”
“Has she never asked questions about her origin?”
“Yes, but only once. I told her that her parents were friends of Mr. Clarendon, and that she was an orphan, therefore I had taken her. That was several years ago.”
Again there was a pause in the dialogue. Isabel had difficulty in keeping her face raised; her cheeks had lost their pallor, the blood every now and then made them warm.
“She seems a strange being,” Asquith remarked. “I am not as a rule tempted to puzzle about people’s characteristics, but hers provoke one’s curiosity.”
“I cannot aid you,” Isabel said, speaking quickly. “I know her as little as on the day when I first saw her. I have tried to be kind; I have tried to----”
She broke off. Her voice had begun to express emotion, and the sound seemed to recall her to self-command. She looked up, smiling more naturally, though still with a touch of shame.
“Certainly I will do what you wish. Do you desire me to explain everything in detail----”
“The will, the will,” she interposed, with a motion of her hand. “Yes, the full details of the will.”
“You know nothing--that is best. You cannot speak to her on such a subject. Will you wait for me a moment?”
She rose hastily and left the room. Asquith remained standing till her return. She was only a few moments absent, and came back with a folded paper in her hand.