"You could do it on seven thousand pounds." "Seven thousand pounds!" echoed Frank. "Why, yes on half of it; on a quarter. But I have no money at all, you understand." "Yes, you have, Frank. You have just that sum. At least you will have it in the course of a few days!" Frank's Frank's pleasant lips were parting with a smile. He thought it was meant as a joke. "Look here. This money that has come to light, of your aunt Atkinson's--you cannot, I hope, imagine for a moment that I should keep it. By law it is mine, for she willed it to me; but I shall divide it into three portions, and give them to those who are her rightful heirs: her brothers' families. One portion to Mrs. Raynor; one to that angel of goodness, Edina----" "And she is an angel," interrupted Frank hotly, carried away by the praise. "How we should all have got on without Edina, I don't know. But, Mr. Atkinson, you must not do this that you are talking of: at least as far as I am concerned. It would be too chivalrously generous." "Why not to you?" "I could not think of taking it. I have no claim upon you. Who am I, that you should benefit me?" "I benefit you as your father's son. Were he living, this money would be his: it will now be yours. There, say no more, Frank; you cannot talk me out of doing bare justice. You will own seven thousand pounds next week, and you can lay your plans accordingly." "I shall not know how to thank you," cried Frank, with a queer feeling in his throat. "Eagles' Nest first, and twenty-one thousand pounds next! You must have been taking a lesson from Edina. And what will Max Brown say when he hears that I shall leave him for certain? He does not believe it yet." "Max Brown can go promenading." CHAPTER XI. SUNSHINE. It was a warm September day. The blue sky was without a cloud; the sunbeams glinted through the foliage, beginning to change with the coming autumn, and fell on the smooth velvet lawn at Eagles' Nest. On that same green lawn stood a group of people in gala attire, for this had been a gala day with them. William Stane and Alice Raynor were married that morning. They had now just driven from the gates, around which the white satin shoes lay, and the rice in showers.