as well as possible, people will forget the wording of the will, or they
will think that money was given to you in his lifetime to escape the
death duties."

Like many idealists and even mystics, both mother and daughter took
sensible views on money matters. They did not undervalue the fortune
that had gone; they were both honestly sorry it had gone, and would have
taken any reasonable means to get it back again. Only Rose allowed that
possibly there might have been some claim in justice on the woman's
part; she could not frame her lips to use the words again. Without
"legal wife" or any such terms passing between them, they were really
arguing the point. Lady Charlton had not the faintest shadow of a doubt
"the woman was a wicked woman, and the wicked woman, as wicked women do,
had entrapped a" (the adjective was conspicuous by its absence) "a man."
Such a woman was to be forgiven, even--a bitter sigh could not be
suppressed--to be prayed for; but it was not necessary to try to take a
falsely charitable view of her, or invent unlikely circumstances in her
defence. It was a relief to the darkest of all dark thoughts in Rose's
mind, the doubt of the validity of her own marriage, to hear her mother
settling this question as she had settled so many questions years ago,
by the weight of personal authority.

At last the clock on the stairs below told them that it was two in the
morning, and Lady Charlton had to leave London by an early train. She
was torn between the claim of her youngest married daughter, who was
laid up in a lonely country house in Scotland, and that of Rose in this
new and miserable trouble.

"I could telegraph to Bertha that I can't come," she said suddenly.
"But I am afraid she would miss me."