"Because it matches her complexion, I suppose. What has he got to be married on?"

"It's not love, he says. It's money. I am so thankful."

"It is love, Miss Sophy. Love on both sides, at first sight, and all the way."

"Of course it is, my dear. Poor dear Percy! He was such a gentleman, and he did work so hard. If I could have seen him once more, just to tell him how happy I am--"

"Now you are not to say anything more until you have eaten your breakfast," Nellie ordered, as she rose to supply the old lady with a fresh handkerchief and a piece of b.u.t.tered toast.

That morning George wrote a curt and final note to Mr. Hunter, announcing his intention of leaving Highfield within the next few days, and enclosing the receipt duly signed. He then approached Nellie, informed her duty was calling him elsewhere, and explained that, before his departure, a little cheque from Miss Yard would be acceptable.

"You know the rules," she said. "I have to give an account of my stewardship to the trustees."

"Yes, but Aunt Sophy owes me rent, and you mustn't allow her generous nature to be restrained if she wishes to add a few pounds by way of bonus," said George.

"There are to be no additions whatever," she said firmly. "I'll let Miss Sophy give you a quarter's rent, but no more. She can't afford it, as her bank account is low."

"Because she gives all her money to Percy. You let her do that," cried George wrathfully.

"How can I prevent it? Mr. Taverner does bleed her frightfully, but he's a trustee, and her nephew."

"So he can levy blackmail, grab all his aunt's money, ransack my home!

He's above the law, while I'm crushed down by it. The kindest thing I can say about Percy is to call him a kleptomaniac, though I believe he's a pirate."

"I want you to tell me who really does own the house and furniture. And why are you going? I'm sure you wouldn't leave Highfield unless you had to. I promise not to tell anyone," said Nellie eagerly.

"Not even Sidney Brock?"

"You are not to mention his name to me. You know quite well I never see him now that he's given up the choir," said Nellie, flushing with shame, indignation, and other things.

"I should have said nothing if he hadn't written to you. I saw the postmark was Highfield--and of course I felt jealous," said George composedly.

"Yes, he did write, and asked me to meet him again. Just a selfish letter," snapped Nellie. "I'm not going to answer it. Now I've told you my secrets, and I expect to hear yours."

"I never did like the idea of keeping anything from you," said George doubtfully.

"Especially as Mr. Hunter would tell me everything, if I liked to write and inform him I cannot undertake my new duties until I have the whole position explained to me."

"If you tell Kezia and Bessie there will be a fearful rumpus."

"I won't say a word to either. I don't care much about them, now I see how grasping they are, though it's only natural I suppose. Mrs. Drake treated them more like relations than servants, and they are quite sure she meant them to own everything."

"They know my aunt left a will," said George.

"She left about a hundred," laughed Nellie. "Kezia has fifty, Bessie has forty, Miss Sophy has two, and I have one."

"But the will in my favour is the only legal one; and it's the only one the trustees know about."

"Some of the papers were signed and dated, though none were witnessed.

Anyhow, they are all later than your will," said Nellie.

George thought he could see what she was driving at. Miss Yard would leave the entire property to Nellie if she could; and his aunt had certainly left a sc.r.a.p of paper expressing a wish that her sister should own the house. No doubt Nellie has this doc.u.ment hidden away safely. It did not matter much, and yet George felt uncomfortable at the idea of his wife owning the property.

"I'll tell you the truth," he said boldly. "My aunt lost her affection for me rather during the last years of her life, as she thought I didn't put my whole heart into my work, and perhaps she didn't want me to own the property. Still, she never destroyed the will, and that leaves the house to me."

"But who owns the furniture?"

"Last week it was mine. Now it belongs to Aunt Sophy."

"You never gave it her!"

"She has bought it. I offered it to her through Hunter, and he advised Percy to buy it with her money."

"That means the furniture belongs to Mr. Taverner."

"Aunt Sophy paid every penny of the purchase money, therefore it belongs to her. I have you as a witness to prove it."

"She advanced the money to Mr. Taverner. She didn't even know what he wanted it for," cried Nellie.

"It will come out at her death, when Percy claims the furniture. We must keep the cheque, produce it to Percy, and demand an explanation. If he refuses to withdraw his claim, we will threaten to expose his knavish tricks before his high-minded Emmie, the whole of her virtuous family, and the immaculate firm of Cross and Martin."

"We!" laughed Nellie. "Do you suppose I will be the accomplice of your villainy?"

"This afternoon," said George, "I am going into town, and there I shall buy a sixpenny printed form of Will. I shall then insert what is necessary, words to the effect that all the furniture, with everything that Aunt Sophy dies possessed of, are to come to you. I have kept a copy of aunt's will, which was properly drawn up by a lawyer, so I shall know how to do it. Then you must ask Aunt Sophy to sign it. Kezia and Bessie ought to be the witnesses. It would serve them right," said George, chuckling vastly.

"I'll have nothing to do with it," cried Nellie.

"Then I must work alone as usual. I'm not going to let you be defrauded.

The only way to get justice is to help yourself," declared George.

"There's Hunter now! He would give twopence with one hand and steal your last sovereign with the other. And, if you caught the rascal, he would swear you had dropped the sovereign in his pocket. And he wouldn't rest until he had got back the twopence. Hunter stands for justice; he deals in it like Percy, who puts his sound tomatoes on top of the basket to hide the rotten ones underneath."

"I'm afraid you don't love Mr. Hunter," laughed Nellie. "Is it because he has ordered you to clear out?"

"He and Percy between them hatched the dirty plot. They know I want money--"

"A few days ago you were refusing it."

"Ah, but that was tact. The pair of rascals offered to buy the furniture, if I would promise to leave my own home. That was bribery and corruption. They want to get rid of me; they would like me to starve in a ditch, and they would prefer the ditch to have water in it. Hunter's not quite so bad as Percy, I think. Hunter has to be a scoundrel, or he couldn't make a living. But Percy is just a homicidal maniac."

"They are afraid you might try to influence Miss Sophy," suggested Nellie, when she had done laughing.

"It's Percy's doing entirely. He's a common malefactor himself, so he thinks I must be the same. He's not going to have any one else milking his golden goose. Besides, he knows how fond I am of Aunt Sophy, and what great care I take of her. I have saved her from serious injury many a time, and that doesn't suit Percy at all. He wants the dear old lady to fall about, and hurt herself, and die of shock, so that he can get her money, which I hope will be a curse to him."

"I understand the position," said Nellie. "You really are going?" she added.

"I must go," replied George gloomily. "It is hard on both of us, but you must try to be brave, for we shall soon meet again. Aunt Sophy won't live long when she hasn't me to look after her."

"Thank you for another compliment," cried Nellie.