“Yes, I do,” Mrs. North said emphatically; “but now I want to speak about something much more important. I hope you are going to get well—yes, in spite of all the shakes of your dear old head; and that you are going to live to be a hundred and one, in order to scold me with very long words when I offend you.” “I will endeavour to do so, my love; but I hope that some one else will do it better”—she stopped and closed her eyes. “I believe you are a witch, and you know about my letter. It has just come, and has made me so happy,” Mrs. North said, between laughing and crying. “What does he say?” the old lady asked, without opening her eyes. “He says he is coming,” Mrs. North answered, almost in a whisper. “It’s almost more than I can bear. I think it will all come right. The other was never a marriage—it was cruel to call it one; it was a girl’s body and soul made ready for ruin by those who persuaded her——” and she put her face down. “My dear, I understand now; I think I was very unsympathetic. But purity counts before all things”—and Aunt Anne’s lips quivered. “Tell me, my love, have you heard—I know it is painful to you to hear his name, but have you heard anything of Mr. North lately?” Mrs. North looked up with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, which a moment before had been full of tears, and answered demurely— “I am told that he is casting his eyes on an amiable lady of forty-five. She is the sister of an eminent Q.C., has read Buckle’s ‘History of Civilization,’ and her favourite fad is the abolition of capital punishment. But I don’t want to talk of my affairs, Aunt Anne; I want to talk of yours—they are more momentous.” Mrs. North prided herself on picking up Aunt Anne’s words, and using them with great discretion. “Yes, my love, I am most grateful to you.” “I am certain—as I tell you—that you are going to live and get well.” Mrs. North meant her words at the moment, for, with the sweet insolence of youth, she was incredulous of death until it was absolutely before her eyes. “But at the same time,” she went on, “now that you are enormously rich, you ought to take precautions in case of an accident. If the cottage were burned down to-night, and we were burned with it, who would inherit your money?” “I told Mr. Boughton that I would give my instructions to you, and he is coming the day after to-morrow.” “But have you destroyed the will you made in favour of Alfred Wimple?” “I have not got it; he took it away with him.” Mrs. North looked quite alarmed. “We must make another, this minute,” she said; “if the conflagration took place this evening he would get every penny. Let me make it this minute. I can do it on a sheet of note-paper. Don’t agitate your dear old self, I shall be back directly”—and in a moment she had fled downstairs and returned with her blotting-book, and once more she knelt down by a table to write. “You want to leave everything to the Hibberts, don’t you?”