She gave a cry, and clasped her hands. “Your uncle is dead, and has left you his money, after all!” she exclaimed. “O Lennox, I am so glad!” Then she turned swiftly and ran across the platform. “O Aimée!” she cried, “you must congratulate Mr. Kyrle. He has just come into a large fortune.” When Aimée turned, she and Lennox were both pale--he, because he had not entertained the least expectation of finding her there; and she, on account of this unexpected sequel to those last words of Fanny’s, which were still ringing in her ears. “I hope Mr. Kyrle will accept my congratulations,” she said, “although”--and she smiled a faint, tremulous smile--“I am not sure that to inherit a great deal of money is always such good fortune as the world believes.” “Ah,” said Fanny, “such skepticism may do for people who have inherited it. But I do not think Mr. Kyrle will quarrel with his good fortune.” “No,” said Lennox, quietly, “I would be very far from quarreling with it--if it were really mine.” “If it were really yours!” repeated Mrs. Meredith, recoiling a step in her amazement and disappointment. “What do you mean?” Lennox looked at Aimée. “I will tell you,” he replied, “what I mean. When I said, a moment ago, that I am a millionaire, I said what is exactly true; and ever since I read the letter announcing the news to me I have been playing with the sensation, with the idea, of being rich and free, and altogether living in a fool’s paradise. For”--his voice changed--“it is true that the fortune is mine, but it is also true that I can not retain it.” “Good Heaven! why not?” cried Mrs. Meredith; while Aimée said nothing, but looked at him with all her soul in her eyes; and he, gazing into those eyes, answered: “Because it is by an accident, not by the intention of my uncle, that I inherit this fortune. It has long been his intention, of which I was well aware, to found with his wealth some great charity to perpetuate his name, and his will to that effect was drawn up many years ago. Lately he wished to alter it in some particulars, and directed his lawyer to draw up a new will according to his directions. Before this will could be signed he died suddenly of apoplexy, and the older will having been destroyed, I inherit the property as nearest of kin.” “Now, I call that providential!” said Fanny, in a tone of devout thanksgiving. “I do not know when I have heard anything that gives me so much pleasure! To think of that old--ahem--gentleman being so outwitted at last, and so thwarted in his desire to cheat you! For I call it absolute cheating, when a man leaves his property away from his nearest relative and natural heir.”