“Dear William,” the old lady said tearfully, “I feared it was so. I knew him too well to suppose that he would leave my letters unanswered had it been otherwise.” “If it is any business matter, madam, I am his confidential lawyer, and have been for thirty years.” “Mr. Boughton, I am Sir William’s own first cousin; our mothers were sisters,” Mrs. Baines said with deep emotion. “Dear me, dear me,” answered the lawyer thoughtfully. “When we were children we were rocked in the same cradle.” “Most touching, I am sure;” and still he appeared to be turning something over in his mind. “I know that he has a sincere affection for me, but of late years he has been so frequently indisposed that he has not been able to show it as he wished.” “Frequently the case, my dear lady, frequently the case,” Mr. Boughton said soothingly. “May I ask you to tell me what other members of his family survive? I am a little uncertain in the matter.” “Mr. Boughton, I am his mother’s sister’s child, and the nearest relation he has in the world. The others have been dead and gone these many years. There may be some distant cousins left, but we have never recognized them.” “I understand,” he said; “most interesting. And you wish to see him on family business, I presume?” “I did.” “I am sorry to refuse you, my dear lady, but I am afraid he is too ill to see you.” “I am not rich,” Aunt Anne began, and her voice faltered a little; “and he promised to make me an allowance.” “He has never done so yet?” “No,” she said sadly, “he has had it under consideration. Perhaps he was reflecting what would be an adequate sum to defray my necessary expenses.” “Perhaps so,” Mr. Boughton said thoughtfully. “If you will excuse me one moment, I will inquire if by any possibility my client can see you;” and he left the room. But in a few minutes he returned. “It is quite out of the question,” he explained, “quite. I don’t wish to distress you, but I fear that our friend is much too ill to attend for some time to his worldly affairs.” “I have been waiting many months for his decision,” the old lady said, with a world of pain in her voice; “it has been most difficult to maintain my position.” “Quite so, quite so, my dear lady, and I feel sure that Sir William would wish this matter to be attended to without delay. I think I understand you to be the daughter of his mother’s sister——” “His dear mother’s sister Harriet.” “Quite so,” and Mr. Boughton nodded approvingly. “Well, my dear lady, suppose I take it upon myself, having the management of his affairs for the present, to allow you just a hundred a year, say, till he is able to settle matters himself. Would that enable you to await his recovery, or——” A little lump came into Aunt Anne’s throat, a slow movement of satisfaction to her left eye; her voice was unsteady when she spoke. “Mr. Boughton,” she said, “I know Sir William will be most grateful to you. My circumstances must have been the cause of much anxiety to him.”