"And have you so little knowledge of your father, Abel? The maid Miriam is well seen to. There's that strange man, Daft Billy, hangs about the place and will see no harm comes to her--a wild, uncouth creature, but a faithful. Then there are the women kind: a wildish lot, maybe, but they all seemed bent on easing the maid's burden. Still, I'd have had her return with me to Pole Moor. But that she flatly refused to do. She said her Granny had cared her all her days and she wasn't going to leave her till she had seen her laid in her last resting-place. And she was in the right of it, I thought." "And what at after?" I asked anxiously. "It's out of all question that she can go on living at Burnplatts." "There'll be no need for that," said my sire. "She has money of her own, and can pick and choose her abiding place. "Miriam? Money?" "Why, yes. Have you forgotten old Mr. Garside' bequest that lies now at usury in the bank at Huddersfield? Who's should it be but the maid Miriam's?" Now, believe me or believe me not, you who may come to read this simple story, I'd clean forgotten the money that Mr. Garside had entrusted to my care, or, rather, should I say, it had not recurred to my mind. Nor is this so much to be wondered at. First of all had come the overwhelming revelation of Miriam's identity, and then, before my mind had had time to assimilate old Granny Sykes's story, I'd gone through a serious illness, my wits all scattered, and, as I've said more than once, I don't set up for being one of the clever ones of the earth. But, you see, my old father's wits had been sharper than mine, and, sure enough, the girl who had been dragged about Fairs, and Wakes, and "Thumps," and "Rants," selling brooms and telling fortunes, had a tidy little sum lying at command and need be beholden to no one for food and shelter in her hour of sore trial. I was pondering these things in my mind in a mazed and bewildered sort of way when Ruth broke in: "I don't know what you two are driving at, I'm sure. If there's secrets about I can go downstairs and sit with th' cat. But all this talk about Miriam being heir to that money in th' bank's just so much gibberish to me. Can't one of you tell a plain tale for once. Happen you'll find it worth while to take a woman into counsel when it's a woman's future you've got to deal with." "I thought Abel would have told you," said my father mildly. "Abe, indeed!" quoth my sister, with an accent that rated me very low indeed. "Well, you'd better tell her now, lad, and I'll go make th' beasts up for the night. Then you get to bed, Abe; you've been up o'er long as 'tis." "Now then, Abe; if you've anything to tell me, out with it," said Ruth, as my father gently closed the door behind him. "If there's one thing I dislike more than another it's to be kept on tenter-hooks." "Well, it's about that money of old Mr. Garside's You know how I came to be a sort of trustee for it?"