"I took Harold with me; mother was so proud of him. Whenever she had an easy moment, she used to like to have him placed on her knee. She told me then that she had a little son older than I, who died, and that our Harold reminded her of him. One night, I remember so well, I was sitting up with her. She had been going through great pain, but towards the morning she was easier. She was more inclined, however, to talk than to sleep. She began again speaking about the likeness between our Harold and my little brother who died. "'I shall give you little Edgar's christening robe for Harold,' she said. 'I never could bear to part with it before but I don't mind his having it. Open my wardrobe, Charlotte, and you will find it folded away in a blue paper, in the small wooden box.' "I did so, and took out a costly thing, yellow, it is true, with age, but half covered with most valuable lace. "'Why, mother,' I exclaimed, 'how did you ever get such a valuable dress as this? Why, this lace would be cheap at a guinea a yard!' "'It cost a great deal more than that,' replied mother, stroking down the soft lace and muslin with her thin fingers; 'but we were rich then, Lottie.' "'Rich!' I said, 'rich! I never, never thought that you and I had anything to say to money, mother.' "'You don't remember your father, child?' "'No, mother,' I said; 'how could I? I was only two years old when he died.' "Mother was silent after that, and I think she went into a doze, but my curiosity and wonder were excited, and I could not help seeking to know more. "'I never knew that we were rich,' I said again the next day. 'Why did you never tell me before? The next best thing to enjoying riches would be to hear about them.' "'I did not want to make you discontented, Lottie. I thought what you had never known or thought of you would never miss. I feared, my dear, to make you discontented.' "'But I have thought of money,' I owned, 'I have thought of it lately a great deal. When I look at Angus I long to get him every luxury, and I want my little Harold to grow up surrounded by those things which help to develop a fine and refined character. "'But they don't, Lottie; they don't indeed,' answered my dear dying mother. 'Riches bring a snare--they debase the character, they don't ennoble it.' "'Mother,' I said, 'I see plainly that you are well acquainted with this subject. You will tell me, mother, what you know?' "'Yes,' replied my mother; 'it won't do you the least good; but as I have said so much to you I may as well tell the rest.' "Then, Angus, my mother told me the following story; it is not very long.