ht to know," said Brook in a low tone, at last. "They forgive
when they love--or have loved. That's the right way to put it, I think."

"Well--put it in that way, if you like. It will just cover the ground.
Whatever that young lady may say, she likes you very much. I've seen her
watch you, and I'm sure of it."

"How can a woman love a man and hate him at the same time?"

"Why do jealous women sometimes kill their husbands? If they didn't love
them they wouldn't care; and if they didn't hate them, they wouldn't
kill them. You can't explain it, perhaps, but you can't deny it either.
She'll never forgive Mrs. Crosby--perhaps--but she'll forgive you, when
she finds out that she can't be happy without you. Stay here quietly,
and let me see what I can do."

"You can't do anything, Governor. But I'm grateful to you all the same.
And--you know--if there's anything I can do on my side to help you, just
now, I'll do it!"

"Thank you, Brook," said the old man, leaning back, and putting up his
feet again.

Brook rose and left the room, slowly shutting the door behind him. Then
he got his hat and went off for a solitary walk to think matters over.
They were grave enough, and all that his father had said could not
persuade him that there was any chance of happiness in his future. There
was a sort of horror in the situation, too, and he could not remember
ever to have heard of anything like it. He walked slowly, and with bent
head.

CHAPTER XIII

Sir Adam sat still in his place and smoked another thick cigarette
before he moved. Then he roused himself, got up, sat down at his table,
and took a large sheet of paper from a big leather writing-case.

He had no hesitation about what he meant to put down. In a quarter of an
hour he had written out a new will, in which he left his whole fortune
to his only son Brook, on condition that Brook did not marry Mrs.
Crosby. But if he married her before his father's death he was to have
nothing, and if he married her afterwards he was to forfeit the whole,
to the uttermost farthing. In either of these cases the property was to
go to a third person. Sir Adam hesitated a moment, and then wrote the
name of one of his sisters as the conditional legatee. His wife had
plenty of money of her own, and besides, the will was a mere formality,
drawn up and to be executed solely with a view to checking Lady Fan's
enthusiasm. He did not sign it, but folded it smoothly and put it into
his pock