夜雨聆风Addie moved restlessly. She said:
“He was — this summer.” She paused and then burst out: “Mark willhave it that it was all my fault. Perhaps it was, I don’t know.”
She was silent for a minute, then, impelled by some need to talk, shewent on speaking in a difficult, almost reluctant way.
“I—I’ve had such an odd sort of life. Mike Carmody, my first husband,died so soon after we were married—it—it knocked me out. Peter, as youknow, was born after his death. Frank Jefferson was Mike’s great friend.
So I came to see a lot of him. He was Peter’s godfather—Mike had wantedthat. I got very fond of him—and—oh! sorry for him too.”
“Sorry?” queried Mrs. Bantry with interest.
“Yes, just that. It sounds odd. Frank had always had everything hewanted. His father and his mother couldn’t have been nicer to him. Andyet — how can I say it? — you see, old Mr. Jefferson’s personality is sostrong. If you live with it, you can’t somehow have a personality of yourown. Frank felt that.
“When we were married he was very happy—wonderfully so. Mr. Jef-ferson was very generous. He settled a large sum of money on Frank—said he wanted his children to be independent and not have to wait for hisdeath. It was so nice of him—so generous. But it was much too sudden. Heought really to have accustomed Frank to independence little by little.
“It went to Frank’s head. He wanted to be as good a man as his father, asclever about money and business, as far-seeing and successful. And, ofcourse, he wasn’t. He didn’t exactly speculate with the money, but he in-vested in the wrong things at the wrong time. It’s frightening, you know,how soon money goes if you’re not clever about it. The more Frankdropped, the more eager he was to get it back by some clever deal. Sothings went from bad to worse.
