“He resents it,” said Matlock. “More, I think, than the loss of ready money. He has inherited confusion enough; he has no wish to be governed by it as well.”
The Colonel reached for the letter and glanced over it.“Then we must revise our conclusions. I cannot regret what was never properly mine, and I may be thankful not to be bound where I was never consulted.”
Darcy refilled his glass.“A settlement made without consent, and maintained only by concealment, can hardly be expected to recommend itself.”
“No,” said Matlock. “Nor does it.” He took a slow sip from his glass before continuing. “The irritation is deserved. It appears his father's need of ready money was greater than anyof us suspected. There had been an investment; speculative, ill judged, and undertaken at exactly the moment when half the country was burying its dead and no man could say what would recover and what would collapse.”
Ashford removed the cigar from his mouth and set it aside. “And he used trust money to answer for it?”
“So Ashcombe believes,” his father replied.
"Then the wrong is larger than concealment," said Darcy.
“It usually is,” said Matlock.
Gardiner spoke next. “The will is missing, the ward unnamed. Who, then, can she be?”
“A relation,” said Ashford, “but one so distant as to escape all notice.”
“Or one discovered late,” said Darcy. “Brought forward only when there was no nearer claim.”
The Colonel turned another page of the letter.
“A lady found just in time to be provided for, and just obscure enough to be directed.”
“And placed,” said Ashford, “entirely in Alfred's hands.”
“That,” said Matlock, “is what I begin to suspect.”
“Let us see what further wisdom he has left us. Ah. Here is something. ‘—a union desirable to the greatest estates connected with the family—’”
“Trevelyan and Ashcombe,” said Ashford at once.
“Yes. And a lady who must be persuaded of the honour.”
“And a gentleman who must submit to it,” said Darcy.
“It appears neither has been consulted.”
The Colonel folded the letter and handed it back to his father.
Darcy set down his glass. “Uncle Henry, might it be time for us to rejoin the ladies?”
“So soon?” said Ashford. “I had thought you more inclined to endure us a while longer.”
“I would not wish to be absent longer than is necessary.”
“We have not yet done with you,” said Matlock. “There remains the matter of your proposed journey, and the business you were to consider with Gardiner.”
“The matter is not so extensive as to detain us long,” said Gardiner. “I have already written to you the principal points; the expected course of the ship, the probable returns, and the general state of the venture. Your investment, gentlemen, is secure. There is nothing in it, I think, that need prevent further discussion at another time.”
“So we are to be satisfied with reports,” said Ashford, “when Darcy himself was to return after a fortnight, and instead vanished for two months. I had thought such diligence must produce something more instructive.”
“Indeed,” said the Colonel. “The venture appears to have yielded remarkable returns. I confess myself curious as to the method.”
“I would not recommend it. The improvement to one's understanding is not always proportionate to the time required,” Darcy replied.
“A pity,” said Ashford. “I had begun to think you had discovered some singular advantage abroad.”
