"Of course you have; but I had these notes left in my trust. It is my duty towards your father to use every means for their recovery."

"You call it a duty to my father to shut up his discovery and keep it useless for the sake of a lot of boys who will never turn it to profit."

"Of that I am judge. My present duty is to recover it. Your conduct is such as to excite suspicion, and I therefore cannot allow you to take anything out of that bureau except in my presence, till I have satisfied myself that his memoranda are not there. I would not search your drawers in your absence, and therefore telegraphed for you."

"Thank you. Since you like to treat your daughter like a maidservant, you may go on and search my boxes," said Janet, sulkily.

"I beg your pardon, my poor child, if I am unjustly causing you this humiliation," said Caroline humbly, as Janet sullenly flumped down into a chair without answering. She took up the keys that Janet had brought with her, and tried them one by one, where Janet had been using them.

The fourth turned in the lock, and the drawer was open!

"I will disarrange nothing unnecessarily," said Caroline. "Look for yourself."

Janet would not, however, move hand, foot, or eye, while her mother put in her hand and took out what lay on the top. It was the Magnum Bonum.

She held it to the light and was sure of it; but she had taken up an envelope at the same time, and her eye fell on the address as she was laying it down. It was to--"James Barnes, Esq." And as her eye caught the pencilled words "My Will," a strange electric thrill went through her, as she exclaimed, "What is this, Janet? How came it here?"

"Oh! take it if you like," said Janet. "I put it there to spare you worry; but if you will pursue your researches, you must take the consequences."

Caroline, thus defied, still instinctively holding Magnum Bonum close to her, drew out the contents of the envelope, and caught in the broken handwriting of the old man, the words--"Will and Testament--George Gould--Wakefield--Elvira de Menella--whole estate." Then she saw signature, seal, witnesses--date, "April 24th, 1862."

"What is this? Where did it come from?" she asked.

"I found it--in his table drawer; I saw it was not valid, so I kept it out of the way from consideration for you," said Janet.

"How do you know it was not valid?"

"Oh--why--I didn't look much, or know much about it either," said Janet, in an alarmed voice. "I was a mere child then, you know. I saw it was only scrawled on letter-paper, and I thought it was only a rough draft, which would just make you uncomfortable."

"I hope you did, Janet. I hope you did not know what you were doing!"

"You don't mean that it has been executed?"

"Here are witnesses," said Caroline--her eyes swam too much to see their names. "It must be for better heads than ours to decide whether this is of force; but, oh, Janet! if we have been robbing the orphan all these years!"

"The orphan has been quite as well off as if it had been all hers," said Janet. "Mother, just listen! Give me the keeping of my father's secret, and--even if we lose this place--it shall make up for all--"

"You do not know what you are talking of, Janet," said Caroline, pushing back those ripples of white hair that crowned her brow, "nor indeed I either! I only know you have spoken more kindly to me, and that you are under my own roof again. Kiss me, my child, and forgive me if I have pained you. You did not know what you did about the will, and as to this book, I know you meant to put it back again."

"I did--I did, mother--if Barbara had not hidden the desk," cried Janet.

And as her mother kissed her, she laid her head on her shoulder, and wept and sobbed in an hysterical manner, such as Caroline had never seen in her before. Of course she was tired out by the long journey, and the subsequent agitation; and Caroline soothed and caressed her, with the sole effect of making her cry more piteously; but she would not hear of her mother staying to undress and put her to bed, gathered herself up again as soon as she could, and when another kiss had been exchanged at her bedroom door, Caroline heard it locked after her.

Very little did Caroline sleep that night. If she lost consciousness at all, it was only to know that something strange and wonderful was hanging over her. Sometimes she had a sense that her trust and mission as a rich woman had been ill-fulfilled, and therefore the opportunity was to be taken away; but more often there was a strange sense of relief from what she was unfit for. She remembered that strange dream of her children turning into statues of gold, and the Magnum Bonum disenchanting them, and a fancy came over her that this might yet be realised, a fancy to whose lulling effect she was indebted for the sleep she enjoyed in the morning, which made her unusually late, but prevented her from looking as haggard as Janet did, with eyelids swollen, as if she had cried a good deal longer last night.

The postbag was lying on the table, and directly after family prayers (which she had for some years begun when at home), Mrs. Brownlow beguiled her nervousness by opening it, and distributing the letters.

The first she opened was such a startling one, that her head seemed to reel, and she doubted whether the shock of last night was confusing her senses.

"MY DEAR MRS. BROWNLOW,--What will you think of us now that the full truth has burst on you? Of me especially, to whom you entrusted your dear daughter. I never could have thought that Nita would have lent herself to the transaction, and alas! I let the two girls take care of themselves more than was right. However, I can at least give you the comfort of knowing that it was a perfectly legal marriage, for Nita was one of the witnesses, and looked to all that--"

Here Caroline could read no more. Sick and stunned, she began to dispense her teacups, and even helped herself to some of the food that was handed round, but her hand trembled so, and she looked so white and bewildered, that Allen exclaimed--

"Mother, you are really ill. You should not have come down."

She could not bear the crowd and buzz of voices and all the anxious eyes any longer. She pushed back her chair, and as sons came hurrying round with offered arms, she took the nearest, which was Jock's, let him take her to the morning-room, and there a.s.sured him she was not ill, only she had had a letter. She wanted nothing, only that he should go back, and send her Janet. She tried once more to master the contents of Miss Ray's letter, but she was too dizzy; and when Janet came in, she could only hold it out to her.

"Oh!" said Janet, "poor old Maria has forestalled me. Yes, mother, it is what I meant to tell you, only I thought you could not bear a fresh shock last night."

"Married! Oh, Janet; why thus?"

"Because we wished to avoid the gossip and conventionality. My uncle and aunt were to be avoided."

"Let me hear at once who it is," said Caroline, with the sharpness of misery.

"It is Professor Demetrius Hermann, a most able lecturer, whose course we have been following. I met him a year ago, at the table d'hote, at Zurich, where he delivered a series of lectures on physiology on a new and original system. He is now going on with them in Scotland, where his wonderful acuteness and originality have produced an immense sensation, and I have no doubt that in his hands this discovery of my father's will receive its full development."

There was no apology in her tone; it was rather that of one who was defying censure; and her mother could only gasp out--

"How long?"

"Three weeks. When we heard you were returning, we thought it would save much trouble and difficulty to secure ourselves against contingencies, and profit by Scottish facilities." Wherewith Janet handed her mother a certificate of her marriage, at Glasgow, before Jane Ray and another witness, and taking her wedding-ring from her purse, put it on, adding, "When you see him, mother, you will be more than satisfied."

"Where is he?" interrupted Caroline.

"At the Railway Hotel, waiting till you are prepared to see him. He brought me down, but he is to give a lecture at Glasgow the day after tomorrow, so we can only remain one night."

"Oh, Janet--Janet, this is very fearful!"

At that moment, Johnny strolled up to the window from the outside, and, as he greeted Janet with some surprise, he observed--

"There's a most extraordinary looking foreign fellow loitering about out here. I warned him he was on private ground, and he made me a bow, as if I, not he, were the trespa.s.ser."

On this Janet darted out at the window without another word, and John exclaiming, in dismay--

"Mother Carey! what is the matter?"

She gasped out, "Oh, Johnny! she's married to him! And the children don't know it. Send them in--Allen and Bobus I mean--make haste; I must prepare them. Take that letter, and let the others know."

John saw the truest kindness was implicit obedience; and Allen and Bobus instantly joined her, the latter asking what new tomfoolery Janet had brought home, Allen following with a cup of coffee.

Caroline's lips felt too dry to speak, and she held out the certificate.

It was received by Allen, with the exclamation--

"By Jove!"

And by Bobus, with an odd, harsh laugh--"I thought she would do something monstrous one of these days."

"Did you ever hear of him, Bobus?" she found voice to say, after swallowing a mouthful of coffee.