FIRST PERIOD: THE LOSS OF THE DIAMOND (1848)
6. CHAPTER VI
(continued)
"It seems hard to say, sir," I answered, "that he died with a horrid revenge
in his heart, and a horrid lie on his lips. God alone knows the truth.
Don't ask me."
Mr. Franklin sat twisting and turning the extract from the Will
in his fingers, as if he expected to squeeze the truth out of it
in that manner. He altered quite remarkably, at the same time.
From being brisk and bright, he now became, most unaccountably,
a slow, solemn, and pondering young man.
"This question has two sides," he said. "An Objective side,
and a Subjective side. Which are we to take?"
He had had a German education as well as a French. One of the two had
been in undisturbed possession of him (as I supposed) up to this time.
And now (as well as I could make out) the other was taking its place.
It is one of my rules in life, never to notice what I don't understand.
I steered a middle course between the Objective side and the Subjective side.
In plain English I stared hard, and said nothing.
"Let's extract the inner meaning of this," says Mr. Franklin.
"Why did my uncle leave the Diamond to Rachel? Why didn't he leave it
to my aunt?"
"That's not beyond guessing, sir, at any rate," I said.
"Colonel Herncastle knew my lady well enough to know that she
would have refused to accept any legacy that came to her
from HIM."
"How did he know that Rachel might not refuse to accept it, too?"
"Is there any young lady in existence, sir, who could resist the temptation
of accepting such a birthday present as The Moonstone?"
"That's the Subjective view," says Mr. Franklin. "It does you
great credit, Betteredge, to be able to take the Subjective view.
But there's another mystery about the Colonel's legacy which is not
accounted for yet. How are we to explain his only giving Rachel her
birthday present conditionally on her mother being alive?"
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