It is to be noted that Audrey was no worse off than before the discovery of
the astounding value of the Zacatecas shares. The Moze property, inherited
through generations and consisting mainly in farms and tithe-rents, was not
in the slightest degree impaired. On the contrary, the steady progress of
agriculture in Essex indicated that its yield must improve with years.
Nevertheless Audrey felt as though she and her mother were ruined, and as
though the National Reformation Society had been guilty of a fearful crime
against a widow and an orphan. The lovely vision of immeasurable wealth had
flashed and scintillated for a month in front of her dazzled eyes--and then
blackness, nothingness, the dark void! She knew that she would never be
happy again.

And she thought, scornfully, "How could father have been so preoccupied and
so gloomy, with all those riches?" She could not conceive anybody as rich
as her father secretly was not being day and night in a condition of pure
delight at the whole spectacle of existence. Her opinion of Mathew Moze
fell lower than ever, and fell finally.

The parlourmaid, in a negligence of attire indicating that no man was left
alive in the house, waited at the door of the study to learn whether or not
Miss Moze was in.

"You'll _have_ to see him," said Miss Ingate firmly. "It'll be all right.
I've known him all my life. He's a very nice man."

After the parlourmaid had gone, and while Audrey was upbraiding her for not
confessing earlier her acquaintance with Mr. Foulger, Miss Ingate added:

"Only his wife has a wooden leg."