Was it true? he began to ask himself.  Why, then, had her countenance fallen?  Why did such a look of deep distress pass over it?

‘The fact is, Janey,’ he continued, hardening himself a little as he noted her expression, ’your grandfather left no will.  The result—­ the legal result—­of that is, that all his property becomes—­ah—­mine.  He—­in fact he destroyed his will a very short time, comparatively speaking, before he died, and he neglected to make another.  Unfortunately, you see, under these circumstances we can’t be sure what his wish was.’

She was deadly pale; there was anguish in the look with which she regarded her father.

‘I’m very sorry it pains you so, my dear,’ Joseph remarked, still more coldly.  ’I didn’t think you were so taken up with the thought of money.  Really, Jane, a young girl at your time of life—­’

’Father, father, how can you think that?  It wasn’t to be for myself; I thought you knew; indeed you did know!’

‘But you looked so very strange, my dear.  Evidently you felt—­’

’Yes—­I feel it—­I do feel it!  But because it means that grandfather couldn’t get back his trust in me.  Oh, it is too hard!  When did he destroy his will?  When, father?’

‘Ten days before his death.’

’Yes; that was when it happened.  You never heard; he promised to tell nobody.  I disappointed him.  I showed myself very foolish and weak in—­in something that happened then.  I made grandfather think that I was too selfish to live as he hoped—­that I couldn’t do what I’d undertaken.  That was why he destroyed his will.  And I thought he had forgiven me!  I thought he trusted me again!  O grandfather!’

Snowdon was astonished at the explanation of his own good luck, and yet more at Jane’s display of feeling.  So quiet, so reserved as he had always known her, she seemed to have become another person.  For some moments he could only gaze at her in wonder.  Never yet had he heard, never again would he hear, the utterance of an emotion so profound and so noble.

’Jane—­try and control yourself, my dear.  Let’s talk it over, Jane.’

’I feel as if it would break my heart.  I thought I had that one thing to comfort me.  It’s like losing him again—­losing his confidence.  To think I should have disappointed him in just what he hoped more than anything!’

‘But you’re mistaken,’ Joseph exclaimed, a generous feeling for once getting the better of prudence.  ’Listen, my dear, and I’ll explain to you.  I hadn’t finished when you interrupted me.’

She clasped her hands upon her lap and gazed at him in eager appeal.

‘Did he say anything to you, father?’

’No—­and you may be quite sure that if he hasn’t trusted you, he wouldhave said something.  What’s more, on the very day before his death be wrote a letter to Mr. Percival, to say that he wanted to make his will again.  He was going to do it on the Monday—­there now It was only an accident; he hadn’t time to do what he wished.’