‘I have another name, Uncle Abel.  I was baptized Gladys Mary.’

’Ah, that’s better.  Well, I’ll call you Mary; it’s not so heathenish.  And tell me what you have thought of doing for yourself?’

’I have thought of it a great deal, but I have not been able to come to any decision,’ answered Gladys.  ’Both papa and Mr. Courtney thought I had better wait until you came.’

‘Your father expected me to come, then?’

’Yes, to the last he hoped you would.  He had something to say to you, he said.  And the last morning, when his mind began to wander, he talked of you a great deal.’

These details Gladys gave in a dry, even voice, which betrayed a keen effort.  She spoke almost as if she had set herself a task.

’I came as soon as I could.  The parson wrote urgently, but I know how parsons draw the long bow, so I didn’t hurry.  Business must be attended to, whatever happens.  You don’t know what it was your father wished to say?  He never asked you to write it, or anything?’

’No, but in his wandering he talked of money a great deal, and he seemed to think,’ she added, with a slight hesitation, ’that you had taken some from him.  Of course it was only his fancy.  Sick people often think such things.’

’He could not possibly in his senses have thought so, for I never had any money, or he either.  We could not rob each other when there was nothing to rob,’ said the old man, but he avoided slightly his niece’s clear gaze.  ’Well, Mary, I am willing to do what I can for you, as you are my brother’s only child, so you had better prepare to return to Scotland with me.’

Gladys tried to veil her shrinking from the prospect, but her sweet face grew even graver as she listened.

‘I am a very poor man,’ he repeated, with an emphasis which left no doubt that he wished it to be impressed firmly on her mind,—­’very poor; but I trust I know my duty.  I don’t suppose, now, that you have been taught to work with your hands—­in the house, I mean—­the woman’s kingdom?’

This sentimental phrase fell rather oddly from the old man’s lips.  He looked the very last man to entertain any high and chivalrous ideal of womanhood.  Gladys could not forbear a smile as she answered,—­

’I am afraid I am rather ignorant, Uncle Abel.  I have never had occasion to do it.’

‘Never had occasion; hear her!’ repeated the old man, quite as if addressing an audience.  ’She has never had any occasion.  She has been born and cradled in the lap of luxury, and I was a born fool to ask the question.’

The desolate child felt the keenness of the sarcasm, and her eyes filled with hot tears.  ’You don’t understand, Uncle Abel, you never can understand, and there is no use trying to make you,’ she said curiously.  ‘I think I had better call Miss Peck to get tea for us.’

’Not yet; we must settle everything, then we needn’t talk any more.  I am your only relation in the world, and as I have been summoned, perhaps unnecessarily, on this occasion, I must, and will, do my duty.  I have not taken the long and expensive journey from Scotland for nothing, remember that.  So sit down, Mary, and tell me exactly how matters stand.  How much money have you?’