‘That I never could quite comprehend; but your father was a weak and timid man, Philip, more of a dreamer than anything else; and after he lost his wife, he leaned more and more upon anyone who would give him advice and take trouble off his hands. He was friendly with your uncle for a long while. I do not think he suspected him readily; but his confidence was shaken at last, I know. He feared, and I think he hated him before he died.’ Tor pulled thoughtfully at his moustache. ‘Things should have been looked into at the time of my father’s death. You did not think of consulting a lawyer, and telling him your suspicions?’ A tremor of fear seized Aunt Olive’s frame at the bare thought of such a thing. ‘Dear boy, how could I? I knew nothing—your uncle is a lawyer, and a much-respected man. Oh, I could not have done such a thing! It would have been dreadful. Can you not see for yourself that it would have done harm, not good?’ ‘Perhaps. I am not learned in the law, thank goodness! I understand common-sense and plain justice, but not law. I should like to have my uncle to deal with in South America. We could have managed the business quietly and easily there.’ Mrs. Lorraine shivered a little. ‘Dear boy, don’t say such dreadful things.’ Tor laughed, and his face relaxed. He mused awhile, and then asked: ‘Did my father ever speak to you about his will?’ ‘Yes; but he never said much.’ ‘Was the will made before or after he had begun to distrust and dislike Belassis?’ ‘After; and I think when the will was made they were worse friends than ever.’ ‘Then it stands to reason that the will was not made according to his real wishes.’ ‘I have always thought that,’ and the widow sighed; ‘but what can be done now?’ ‘Will you tell me, if you can, what he said to you on the subject?’ Aunt Olive reflected awhile. ‘I know he said that I should be surprised when the terms of the will were made known; but that I should understand better by-and-by, and he thought in the end that I should approve. I can’t quite remember the words, but I know they were to that effect.’ Tor pondered awhile over this communication. ‘Lewis was a mere child then; he could not have had any love for him. He could not have told that he would not turn out as big a scamp as his father.’ ‘No, he never liked Lewis. He used to call him a “little snivelling, mean-spirited cad.” He was not a nice boy at all, if you remember. He is very much improved on what he was.’ ‘Very likely; but he has not much to boast of. He is an awful muff.’ Aunt Olive shook her head in her gentle reflective fashion. ‘When we think from whom he would inherit his character, can we regret that he has none?’ ‘I think you are more cutting than you know, Aunt Olive,’ said Tor, laughing. ‘But now, one question more, for I want all the light I can get. Did my father ever express himself as uneasy about that will? Did he never seem haunted by a sense of its injustice? Did it never seem to trouble him?’