One morning as Mr Philip sat at breakfast reading the paper, as was his custom, he heard Mr Caldwell say--

"This is the twenty-second of September."

"The days and nights are of equal length," said Mrs Caldwell. "Dear!

dear! how soon the days will be drawing in!"

"This day last year Miss Bethia Barnes died."

"Well, she was a good body. I trust she went to a better place."

"And to-day her will is to be read," went on Mr Caldwell.

"Is it indeed? Had she much property? She was a decent saving body.

And who is to get it? Not that you can know, however, till the will is opened."

"I know, having been consulted about the making of it; but that is neither here nor there at the present moment. What I mean to say is this: Being one of the executors of that will, I shall have to be in Mr Bethune's office this morning, and so, Mr Philip, you will need to attend to the business we were speaking of last night yourself, in case I should be detained beyond my time."

"All right!" said Philip, looking up from his paper.

"And you were consulted about the making of the poor body's will, were you?" said Mrs Caldwell, who was by no means so silent a member of the family as her husband. "And you were made executor, and all--and you never mentioned it. Not that _that_ is a matter for surprise, however,"

added she, reconsidering the subject. "I dare say he will be ready to tell us all about it by dinner time, though no mortal power could make him open his lips this morning. Well, I hope whoever gets the money will get the good of it, though why they should have been kept out of it a whole year, I cannot see. I hope that was not by your advice. But dear! dear! money often does more harm than good, for all so hard as we strive for it."

"It will do good this time--there is no fear," said Mr Caldwell, rising. "It has not been striven for, nor expected, and there is not too much of it just for comfort, and--it will open the way."

The last words struck Philip as familiar, and looking up he caught the eye of Mr Caldwell, who nodded and smiled, as though he ought to understand the whole matter by this time.

"There need be no more waiting now," said he, but whether he meant for himself or for Mr Philip, or for some one else, he did not say.

"All right!" said Philip, at a venture; and though he heard no more of the matter, and was too busy all day to give it a thought, he was not surprised, when he went, at night, to the bridge house, to hear that there was news awaiting him; but he was a little surprised at the nature of the news. It was Violet who told him. The children were gone out, and David was, for the moment, in his mother's room, and only Frank was with Violet when Philip came in. For this time she was quite free from the "proper" and "dignified" air of which Jem used to accuse her where Philip was concerned. She was smiling and eager when, prompted by Frank, she told him there was something he would like to hear.

"It is about Davie, isn't it?" said Philip. "Davie is Miss Bethia's heir?"

But it was not Davie. Davie had his father's library and the five hundred dollars which Miss Bethia had offered for it as well, to do what he liked with; there were some legacies to relatives, "to remember her by," Miss Bethia had written, and there was something to Debby Stone.

But the house and garden in Gourlay, and all else that had been Miss Bethia's, she had bequeathed unconditionally to Mrs Inglis. It was not a large property, but it was a good deal more than Miss Bethia could have been supposed to possess, considering her way of life. It was not quite independence to Mrs Inglis and her children, but it would be a great help toward it.

"And," said Violet, with a smile and a sigh, "it opens the way to Davie."

"Yes; that is what Mr Caldwell said this morning. But you don't seem so delighted as he was at the thought."

"I am very glad for Davie. But it will be a sad breaking-up for the rest of us to have him go away. And it will be at once, I suppose, if, at this late day, arrangements can be made for his going this year to the university."

"But the sooner the better, I should think, Violet," said Frank, cheerfully.

"Yes--the sooner the better for him; but think of mamma and the rest of us. However, I know it is very foolish to look at that side of the matter, and, indeed, I am very glad."

"And, besides, if you go to M-- you will see him often," said Frank.

"We shall be rather dismal without you both, I am afraid."

"Dismal enough!" echoed Mr Philip.

"And if you all go to Gourlay to live, as Miss Bethia seemed to think you would, what will become of us?"

"What, indeed!" said Philip. "That is the plan, is it? It is cruel of Aunt Mary, and I shall tell her so."

"We have made no plans as yet. I hope it will be all for the best. We have been very happy here. It could not have lasted much longer for Davie. He is very glad, and so is mamma; and, I suppose, we shall all be glad, when we have time to think about it."

Philip was not so sure of that, nor Frank either, as far as their going away to Gourlay was concerned. But mamma was glad and Davie. There was no doubt of that, Philip saw, as soon as they appeared. They were rather silent for a time, and Philip saw, what he had never seen before in all his intercourse with her, the traces of tears on Mrs Inglis's face. He was not sure that there was not the shine of tears in David's eyes too. His congratulations were given very quietly, and as quietly received.

"But I am afraid it is the beginning of bad days to us, Aunt Mary, if we have to say good-bye to you all."

"It would be bad days for us, too, if that were to happen; but I hope nothing so sad as that is to follow our good fortune."

"Good-bye!" exclaimed Frank. "That is the last thing we shall think of, Aunt Mary. But, I suppose, we shall lose Davie for awhile. Eh, Davie?"

"I shall be away for awhile, if you call that losing me; but I shall be home soon, and often."

"It happened just at the right time, didn't it?" said Ned. "Just as Davie is ready to go to college."

"Davie has been ready for that any time these three years; and what I wonder is, that mamma did not hear of this at once," said Jem.

"This is the right time, I think," said Mrs Inglis.

"I am very glad it did not happen this time last year," said Philip.

"Why?" said Violet.

"I will tell you another time," said Philip.

"After all, mamma, money is a very good thing to have," said Ned, after there had been more discussion of Miss Bethia's will, and all that was to be done in consequence of it.

"A very good thing, in certain circ.u.mstances."

"But, mamma, you have always spoken as if it did not matter whether we had money or not--much money, I mean. And now see how pleased everybody is because Miss Bethia gave her's to you. I don't think anything ever happened before that pleased every one of us so well."

"I cannot say that for myself," said his mother.

"And there is not _much_ money of it," said Frank.

"And everybody is glad because of Davie," said Jessie. "I think Miss Bethia meant it for Davie to go to college and be a minister like papa, and that is why mamma is so glad, and all of us."

"Nonsense! Miss Bethia meant it for mamma and all of us. She would have said it was for Davie, if she had meant it for him. Do you think Miss Bethia meant it for you, Davie? Do you, mamma?" said Ned, as he saw a smile exchanged between them.

"She meant it for mamma, of course," said David.

"Davie," said his mother, "read Miss Bethia's letter to Philip and the children."

David looked at his mother, and round on the rest, then back again to his mother, a little surprise and hesitation showing in his face.