“He told me,” Mr. Dickson went on, “when he came to see me on his return, that he had come with the intention of asking the tenants to leave The Rigs, but that he hadn’t the heart to do it when he saw how attached you were to the place.  He added that you had been kind to him.  He was rather gruff and ashamed about his weakness, but I could see that he had been touched to receive kindness from utter strangers.  He was amused in a sardonic way that you had thought him a poor man and had yet been kind to him; he had an unhappy notion that in this world kindness is always bought....  He had no heir, and I think I explained to you in my letter that he had made up his mind to leave his whole fortune to the first person who did anything for him without expecting payment.  You turned out to be that person, and I congratulate you, Miss Jardine, most heartily.  I would like to tell you that Mr. Reid planned everything so that it would be as easy as possible for you, and asked me to come and see you and explain in person.  He seemed very satisfied when all was in order.  I saw him a few days before he died and I thought he looked better, and told him so.  But he only said, ’It’s a great load off my mind to get everything settled, and it’s a blessing not to have an heir longing to step into my shoes, and grudging me a few years longer on the earth.’  Two days later he passed away in his sleep.  He was a curious, hard man, whom few cared about, but at the end there was something simple and rather pathetic about him.  I think he died content.”

“Thank you for telling me about him,” Jean said, and there was silence for a minute.

“And now may I hear your wishes?” said Mr. Dickson.

“Can I do just as I like with the money?  Well, will you please divide it into four parts?  That will be a quarter for each of us—­David, Jock, Mhor, me.”

Jean spoke as if the fortune was a lump of dough and Mr. Dickson the baker, but the lawyer did not smile.

“I understood you had only two brothers?”

“Yes, David and Jock, but Mhor is an adopted brother.  His name’s Gervase Taunton.”

“But—­has he any claim on you?”

Jean’s face got pink.  “I should think he has.  He’s exactly like our own brother.”

“Then you want him to have a full share?”

“Of course.  It’s odd how people will assume one is a cad!  When Mhor’s mother died (his father had died before) he came to us—­his mother trusted him to us—­and people kept saying, ’Why should you take him?  He has no claim on you.’  As if Mhor wasn’t the best gift we ever got....  And when you have divided it, I wonder if you would take a tenth off each share?  We were brought up to give a tenth of any money we had to God.  I’m almost sure the boys would give it themselves.  I think they would, but perhaps it would be safer to take it off first and put it aside.”

Jean looked very straight at the lawyer.  “I wouldn’t like any of us to be unjust stewards,” she said.