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Updated: June 19, 2025
There was no shade of embarrassment in the meeting between Mrs. Conway and the man who had once been her lover. It was like two old and dear friends who had long been separated and now come together again. Mr. Penfold's first words after introducing Mabel had reference to Ralph. "Your boy has grown quite a man, Mary, in the last six months.
This assignment was of a binding character, and of course continues to hold good. We shall consider it our duty to acquaint you from time to time with the course of proceedings in the matter of the late Mr. Penfold's will." Little as Mrs. Conway had thought of herself from the time when she first heard that the will was missing, the news that her income would remain unchanged delighted her.
Penfold's assertion of his right to act as he pleased in his own house came upon them like an act of absolute rebellion. At their father's death they were women of twenty-seven and twenty-six years old respectively. Herbert was a lad of sixteen.
Penfold's sisters were likely to turn out thieves." "Well, that is rather a strong expression, Mrs. Conway; though natural enough I must admit in your position as Mr. Ralph Conway's mother. You see, there is a difference between concealing and not disclosing. Mr. Penfold himself concealed the will. The Miss Penfolds simply refuse to assist us in our search for it."
Still in spite of this she had hoped the doctor might have taken too gloomy a view of the case, and that Herbert Penfold's death might yet be a distant event. And now it was all over. Herbert Penfold was dead. The heart that had beat so kindly for her was silenced forever. It was then a long time before Mrs. Conway recovered sufficiently from her emotion to take up the letter again.
As she was always as good as her word, she declined an invitation to play the lion, and, dressing herself in plain merino, went down that very evening to Michael Penfold's cottage. We run thither a little before her, to relate briefly what had taken place there. Nancy Rouse, as may well be imagined, was not the woman to burn two thousand pounds.
I know enough of the family history to know that. It was evident by Miss Penfold's answer to me to-day that either she does not know the secret of this hiding-place which is of course possible or that if she does know she does not mean to say. I should imagine myself that she does know.
It would also enable her to carry out without difficulty any plans she might determine upon. Upon the receipt of the letter announcing Mr. Penfold's death, she had written to Ralph telling him of it, but saying nothing about Mr. Tallboys' visit to the Withers, or his report that he was unable to find the will. She now wrote to him relating the whole circumstances. He had not previously known Mr.
Withers and his wife being anxious to learn as much of his disposition as they could. They were well satisfied with the result. "I fancy I know what is in Penfold's mind," the rector had said to his wife a few days after Ralph came down. "I believe he has already quite settled it in his mind that some day Mabel and this lad shall make a match of it." "How absurd, John. Why, Mabel is only a child."
Burt, as coldly as she could, an outline of Robert Penfold's case, and of the exertions she had made, and the small result. Burt listened keenly, and took a note or two; and, when she had done, he told her something in return. "Miss Rolleston," said he, "I am the officer that arrested Robert Penfold. It cost me a grinder that he knocked out." "Oh, dear!" said Helen, "how unfortunate!
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