Across the room she could see the pale buff-coloured magazine, on the table where, five minutes ago, Mamma had laid it down. She could see the black letters of its title and the squat column of the table of contents. The magazine with her poem in it. And Mamma, sitting very straight, very still. You would never know what she was thinking. She hadn't said anything. You couldn't tell whether she was glad or sorry; or whether she was afraid. The air tingled with the thought of the magazine with your poem in it. But you would never know what she was thinking. VI. A long letter from Uncle Edward. Uncle Edward was worrying Mamma. "He never could get on with your poor father. Or your Uncle Victor. He did his best to prevent him being made trustee.... And now he comes meddling, wanting to upset all their arrangements." "Why?" "Just because poor Victor's business isn't doing quite so well as it did." "Yes, but why's he bothering _you_ about it?" "Well, he says I ought to make another will, leaving half the boys' money to you. That would be taking it from Dan. He always had a grudge against poor Dan." "But you mustn't do anything of the sort." "Well--he knows your father provided for you. You're to have the Five Elms money that's in your Uncle Victor's business. You'd suppose, to hear him talk, that it wasn't safe there." "Just tell him to mind his own business," Mary said. "Actually," Mamma went on, "advising me not to pay back any more of Victor's money. I shall tell him I sent the last of it yesterday." There would be no more debts to Uncle Victor. Mark had paid back his; Mamma had paid back Roddy's, scraping and scraping, Mark and Mamma, over ten years, over twenty. A long letter from Uncle Victor. Uncle Victor was worrying Mamma. "Don't imagine that I shall take this money. I have invested it for you, in sound securities. Not in my own business. That, I am afraid I ought to tell you, is no longer a sound security." "Poor Victor--" "It almost looks," Mamma said, "as if Edward might be right." So right that in his next letter Uncle Victor prepared you for his bankruptcy. "It will not affect you and Mary," he wrote. "I may as well tell you now that all the Five Elms money has been reinvested, and is safe. As for myself, I can assure you that, after the appalling anxiety of the last ten years, the thought of bankruptcy is a relief. A blessed relief, Caroline." All through September and October the long letters came from Uncle Victor. Then Aunt Lavvy's short letter that told you of his death. Then the lawyer's letters. It seemed that, after all, Uncle Victor had been mistaken. His affairs were in perfect order. Only the Five Elms money was gone; and the money Mark and Mamma had paid back to him. He had taken it all out of his own business, and put it into the Sheba Mines and Joe's Reef, and the Golconda Company where he thought it would be safe. The poor dear. The poor dear. VII. So that you knew--