"We also want the money. The want of the help this brings in, in the matter of rent, is our true reason for letting," replied Charlotte. "You see, Uncle Sandy, my husband is a clergyman--a clergyman and curate.

Such men are never over-burdened with money."

Sandy Wilson had small, penetrating, but very bright blue eyes; they were fixed now earnestly on his niece. He took a glance round the little parlor where they sat. He was an old Australian, accustomed to bush life, but even he noticed how threadbare was the carpet, how poor and meagre the window curtains. Charlotte herself, too, how thin and worn she was! Could those pale and hollow cheeks mean insufficient food?

"How old are you, niece Charlotte?" he suddenly demanded.

"I was twenty-five my last birthday."

"Forgive me, my la.s.s, you look very old for that; I should have taken you for thirty. The fact is you are poor, nothing ages like poverty. And the greater fact remains that it was full time for old Uncle Sandy to come home and prove himself of some use in the world."

"We are poor," answered Charlotte; "we certainly are very poor. But poverty is not the greatest of troubles."

"No, but it puzzles me why you should be poor. When I left my little sister, she had been married about three months to that rich old Mr.

Harman. He seemed devoted to her. He had surrounded her with wealth; and he a.s.sured me when I came to bid her good-bye, and she put her dear arms round my neck, that my little darling should never want for anything. He was a good old man, ages too old of course for my bright little Daisy.

But it seemed better than leaving her as a governess. It was my one comfort when parting with Daisy, to feel that she could never want for anything that money could get her."

"My mother has told me that during my father"s life she lived as a rich woman," answered Charlotte.

"That means she did not afterwards. Did the old gentleman die bankrupt?

I don"t see how he could, for he had retired from business."

"No, my father died a very wealthy man."

"Then he did not leave her well off! You don"t surely mean to tell me, Charlotte Home, that that old man dared to do anything but leave a large sum of money to your pretty young mother and to you? Why, be told me with his own lips that he would make most ample provision for her."

At these words Charlotte"s white face grew yet whiter, and a piteous look of terror came into her eyes, but all she said was,--

"Nevertheless, after my father"s death we were poor."

"Oh! the scoundrel! "Tis well he"s out of Sandy Wilson"s power. To think of my Daisy not profiting by his wealth at least. How much did he leave to your mother, Charlotte?

"Nothing."

"Nothing!" Here Uncle Sandy sprang to his feet. "Mr. Harman left my Daisy nothing--nothing whatever! Then he did die bankrupt?"

"No, Uncle Sandy, he died rich."

"And her name was not mentioned in the will?"

"No."

"Ah! there was a will. Have you seen it?"

"No; why should I? It all happened long, long ago."

"And your mother never saw the will?"

"I don"t think she did."

"Then to whom, may I ask, did he leave all his wealth?"

"You forget, Uncle Sandy, that my father was married before. He had two sons by his first marriage. These sons came in for his fortune. They were--they said they were, sorry for my mother, and they settled on her one hundred and fifty pounds a year for her life."

"Ay, I suppose you have got that pittance now?"

"No, it was only for my mother. When she died six years ago it ceased."

Sandy Wilson began to pace up and down the little parlor.

"Nothing left to Daisy. Daisy"s name not mentioned in the will. Brothers sorry--pretend to be. Give my Daisy a pittance for her life--nothing to the child. Charlotte," he suddenly stopped in front of his niece, "don"t you think you are a good bit of a fool?"

"Perhaps I am, Uncle Sandy. But I never recognized the fact before."

"You believe that story about the will?"

"I tell you the tale as my own mother told it to me."

"Ay, Daisy was always too credulous, a foolish little thing, if you like. But you--you are of different metal. You believe that story?"

"I--I--Don"t ask me, Uncle Sandy."

"You do not believe it?"

"If you will have it so, I do not believe it."

"Ay, my la.s.s, shake hands on that. You are not a fool. Oh! it was full time Sandy Wilson came home. Sandy can see to your rights, late as it is in the day."

Mrs. Home was silent. The old Australian was stamping his feet on the hearthrug. His face was now crimson from excitement and anger.

"Charlotte," he repeated, "why don"t you speak to me? I have come back to see to your rights. Do you hear me, niece?"

Charlotte put her hand into his.

"Thank you, Uncle Sandy." Then she added, "You can do nothing. I mean you can take no legal steps without my knowledge and sanction."

"Well, it is not likely you will withhold your sanction from getting back what is your own. Charlotte, where are these half-brothers of yours? Why, they were a good bit older than Daisy. They must be old men now. Where are they, Charlotte? Are they alive?"

"They are alive. I will tell you about them to-morrow. I want to think to-night."

"And so do I want to think. I will run away now, my dear niece. I am staggered by this tale, perfectly staggered. I will look in to-morrow evening, and you shall tell me more. Ay, I guess they never reckoned that Sandy Wilson would turn up. They thought with the rest of you that old Sandy--sharp old Sandy was safe in his grave, and they said to themselves that dead men tell no tales. If I remember aright, your father told me I should be one of the trustees to my sister. He _did_ mention it; though, just like me, I never thought of it until this minute. Is it likely that he would speak of trustees if he meant to cut off that poor darling with a shilling? Oh! it"s preposterous, preposterous. But I"ll sleep over it. We"ll think how best to expose the villains!"

"Uncle Sandy, you will promise me one thing: you will do nothing until you see me again?"

"Well, child, I can scarcely do much. I don"t want to be long away from you, niece Charlotte. I"ll look in to-morrow, about six o"clock. See that little Daisy is up, and introduce me to your husband. Oh! it was plain to be seen that Sandy Wilson was wanting in this country. Bless my old heart, what a Providence is over everything! Oh, the scoundrels! But Sandy will expose them. My Daisy cut off with a shilling!"

CHAPTER XXIX.

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