"Scotch farmer folk. I understand they have deeply resented the fact that the whole of their uncle's estate was left to his widow. James Gowdy was an indigo planter in the big days, and spent forty years in India. Madame disliked the name of Gowdy and transformed it into De Godez; it pleased her, and did no one any harm. Of course her business papers are signed in her real name." "This is terrible news for my poor young friend," exclaimed Mrs. Melville. "Then she has no claim, and was no relation to her mother by adoption?" "No more than I was." "And is left penniless?" "Yes, as far as Madame's money is concerned. Of course, the Gowdys may do something. I shall bring the matter strongly to their notice, and urge them to be liberal. I have wired, and written, and requested them to come down immediately, and I have postponed the funeral until their arrival." "Well, I must go and break all this bad news to my poor child," said Mrs. Melville. "You know she is almost like one of my own; it is dreadful to think of her being left alone in the world." "Oh, there you are misinformed. She is not an orphan, as has been generally supposed. Her father and mother are alive out in India. Madame adopted her, and cut her off from her family; she allowed no correspondence, as she was exceedingly jealous of the girl's affections. Now, no doubt, Miss Chandos will return to her family." "With all the ideas, refinements, tastes and habits of a girl who has been brought up in England on an income of thousands. How cruel!" "Yes, but from what I know of Miss Chandos, her tastes appear to be simple, and her ideas are not extravagant. I think she will adapt herself to circumstances. She seems a sensible girl." "All you say is perfectly true, Mr. Middlemass. She lived with us for nine years. Her own people are not rich, I gather?" "No, very far from it." "And is she to have nothing? Nothing whatever?" "Her personal effects, clothes and jewellery--that is all that she can claim, by the letter of the law." "How inhuman the law is! I really think Madame has behaved in the most shameful, selfish way. What a cruel old woman!" "Only a superstitious old woman," amended Mr. Middlemass, "who believed that a will was a reminder to the Angel of Death. She would be more heart-broken than anyone, at the present state of affairs, and she could not bear the name of the Gowdys. You may be satisfied that I will do my utmost to secure some provision for Miss Chandos." And with this friendly assurance Mr. Middlemass took his grey suède gloves, his glossy hat, and his departure. CHAPTER VII Mistress Jean Gowdy was the tenant of a sheep farm on a moor, north of Perth, where by rigorous economy and unwearied industry she and her two sons and daughter contrived to make the rent, to live frugally, and to put by a bit.