His father disinherited and disowned him; he was cut off from all intercourse with his family; but in his own affairs he seems to have been prosperous enough until his wife died. That event closed the brighter side of life for this melancholy man. He had two daughters, then children, and with them he left Stirling.” A slight start moved the somewhat stiff figure of Martha; Rose unconsciously let her work fall and turned her head towards Cuthbert; Harry remained in the same position, fixedly gazing at him; while Agnes, rocking the cradle gently with her foot, looked on a little amused, a little interested, and not a little curious, wondering what the story could mean. “After this,” continued Cuthbert, “my hero, we suppose went to London (another strange start as if of one half asleep, testified some recognition, on Martha’s part, of the story), but there I lose trace of him. It is only for a short time, however, for immediately afterwards I find him at Ayr.” “At Ayr?” Harry too, started now, and again turned over the papers, which he still held in his hand, as if looking for a clue. “In the meantime,” said Cuthbert, “all the other members of the family are dead; there is no one remaining of the blood but this man--the children of this man.” “And his name?” said Martha, with a slight hoarseness in her voice. “His name,” said Cuthbert, drawing a long breath of relief, as his story ended, “was John Allenders.” There was a momentary silence. They looked at each other with bewildered faces. “What does it mean?” said Harry, becoming very red and hot as the papers fell from his shaking fingers; “I cannot see--it is so great a surprise--tell us what it means.” “It means,” said Cuthbert, quickly, “that you are the heir of John Allenders of Allenders, and of an estate which has been in the family for centuries, worth more than four hundred pounds a year.” Harry looked round for a moment almost unmeaningly--he was stupified; but Agnes stole, as she always did in every emergency, to the back of his chair, and laid her hand softly on his shoulder. It seemed to awake him as from a dream. With one hand he grasped hers, with the other he snatched the work from Martha’s fingers and tossed it to the other end of the room. “Agnes! Martha!” Poor Harry! A sob came between the two names, and his eyes were swimming in sudden tears. He did not know what to say in the joyful shock of this unlooked-for fortune; he could only grasp their hands and repeat their names again. Cuthbert rose to withdraw, feeling himself a restraint on their joy, but Martha disengaged herself from the grasp of Harry, and would not suffer him to move. “No, no; share with us the pleasure you bring. You have seen us in trouble, stay with us now.”