Unlike Mrs. Samuel Harfield, correspondence flowed easily from her pen. She covered four sheets without pause or effort, and on rereading it found no occasion to alter a word.
Katherine received it on the morning of her arrival in London. Whether she read between the lines of it or not is another matter. She put it in her handbag and started out to keep the appointment she had made with Mrs. Harfield’s lawyers.
The firm was an old-established one in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and after a few minutes’ delay Katherine was shown into the presence of the senior partner, a kindly, elderly man with shrewd blue eyes and a fatherly manner.
They discussed Mrs. Harfield’s will and various legal matters for some twenty minutes, then Katherine handed the lawyer Mrs. Samuel’s letter.
“I had better show you this, I suppose,” she said, “though it is really rather ridiculous.”
He read it with a slight smile.
“Rather a crude attempt, Miss Grey. I need hardly tell you, I suppose, that these people have no claim of any kind upon the estate, and if they endeavour to contest the will no court will uphold them.”
“I thought as much.”
“Human nature is not always very wise. In Mrs. Samuel Harfield’s place, I should have been more inclined to make an appeal to your generosity.”
“That is one of the things I want to speak to you about. I should like a certain sum to go to these people.”
“There is no obligation.”