“I am glad you were kind enough to ask me that,” he went on. “The subject is a very difficult one for me to introduce—very difficult. I come as an emissary of the estate, I might say as one of the executors under the will of Mr. Kane’s father. I know how keenly your—ah—how keenly Mr. Kane feels about it. I know how keenly you will probably feel about it. But it is one of those very difficult things which cannot be helped—which must be got over somehow. And while I hesitate very much to say so, I must tell you that Mr. Kane senior stipulated in his will that unless, unless”—again his eyes were moving sidewise to and fro—“he saw fit to separate from—ah—you” he paused to get breath—“he could not inherit this or any other sum or, at least, only a very minor income of ten thousand a year; and that only on condition that he should marry you.” He paused again. “I should add,” he went on, “that under the will he was given three years in which to indicate his intentions. That time is now drawing to a close.” He paused, half expecting some outburst of feeling from Jennie, but she only looked at him fixedly, her eyes clouded with surprise, distress, unhappiness. Now she understood. Lester was sacrificing his fortune for her. His recent commercial venture was an effort to rehabilitate himself, to put himself in an independent position. The recent periods of preoccupation, of subtle unrest, and of dissatisfaction over which she had grieved were now explained. He was unhappy, he was brooding over this prospective loss, and he had never told her. So his father had really disinherited him! Mr. O’Brien sat before her, troubled himself. He was very sorry for her, now that he saw the expression of her face. Still the truth had to come out. She ought to know. “I’m sorry,” he said, when he saw that she was not going to make any immediate reply, “that I have been the bearer of such unfortunate news. It is a very painful situation that I find myself in at this moment, I assure you. I bear you no ill will personally—of course you understand that. The family really bears you no ill will now—I hope you believe that. As I told your—ah—as I told Mr. Kane, at the time the will was read, I considered it most unfair, but, of course, as a mere executive under it and counsel for his father, I could do nothing. I really think it best that you should know how things stand, in order that you may help your—your husband”—he paused, significantly—“if possible, to some solution. It seems a pity to me, as it does to the various other members of his family, that he should lose all this money.” Jennie had turned her head away and was staring at the floor. She faced him now steadily. “He mustn’t lose it,” she said; “it isn’t fair that he should.”