He was very good and generous to me also—almost too lavish; for he petted his "Berty," as he preferred to call me, and was ever ready to bestow new dresses, new jewels, new everything that could please a girl's taste. But after each instance of prodigality, he would say, "Remember, Berty, I expect Aunt Bella to give you your dowry. She has plenty of money, which came by our grandmother; and as I have made things smooth for Norman, I consider it only reasonable that she should provide for you." "Depend upon it, Aunt Bella will do nothing of the kind. She was angry at my father because he wanted to borrow from her, though she declined to lend. She never could endure me, because I was not called after her, though I could not be responsible for the action of my sponsors at such an early age as four weeks. She will leave her money to somebody who has already more than enough, after the fashion of spinster aunts." "And what of bachelor uncles, Berty? Are they not often cross-grained and contrary?" "I only know one, and he is the best and kindest darling in the world," I replied, kissing the dear face, which seemed to me goodness personified. "Though he vows he will leave you no money," continued Uncle Bernard, after returning the kiss, as he held me encircled with his arm. "Yes, though he will leave me no legacy. I do not want him to leave money to anybody, but just to live on and take care of me." "Ah, lassie, I know a certain young maiden's mind better than that. She will soon prefer the care of a younger bachelor than Uncle Bernard. Do you think I was blind when Stephen Hastings spent last Long Vacation at King's Court? I could see that somebody's bright eyes grew brighter, and the colour on her cheek deepened, when that young man's firm step came within hearing." Again I stopped Uncle Bernard's mouth with a kiss, and then placed my hand on his lips to prevent further tale-telling. "I will allow no such insinuations," I said. "To come back to the previous question, let me ask if you have not acted unpardonably by encouraging extravagant tastes, giving me dresses fit for a princess, and then threatening me with Aunt Bella's tender mercies? I have a great mind to sell off all my finery, invest the proceeds against a rainy day, and dress for the future in blue and white prints of the milkmaid pattern. Far better do this than foster habits of luxury which cannot be continued in the future." "Do all these things, darling," replied my uncle, composedly, "and prove the truth of what I have often told you." "What do you allude to?" "That you owe nothing to dress, Berty, but are equally attractive in shimmering satin or humble print. Still, I hope Aunt Bella will ensure you the choice of materials." "I do not care a straw for Aunt Bella's money; Norman will always take care of me," I replied.