A speech which, touching the word stipend, brought a very grave look into the faces of the brethren. “A most serious, yea, a momentous consideration,” said Tron, followed by the two others. Nor had the groan got time to die away when the door opened, and there stood before them a woman of somewhere about forty, a little shabby in her apparel, though with a decayed flush of gaudy colour in it here and there; somewhat blowsy too--the tendency to the tint of the peony being more evident about the region of the nose, where there was a spot or two very clearly predisposed to the sending forth, under favourable circumstances, of a pimple; rather bold-looking in addition, even in presence of holy men who wielded the Calvinistic thunders of the day, and followed them up with the refreshing showers of grace and love. “I understand,” said she, “that Elder Andrew Gebbie has left me a legacy o’ three hundred pounds, and I will thank you for the siller.” On hearing which the three fathers looked at each other in amazement, and it was clear they did not like the appearance of the new claimant. “Who are you?” said Trinity. “Helen Grey!” replied she. “I live in Leith Wynd. Mr Andrew Gebbie and me were man and wife.” “Where are your marriage lines?” asked Tron. “I hae nane,” replied she. “It was a marriage by giving and taking between ourselves--a gude marriage by the law.” “And no witnesses?” said Tron. “The deil ane but the Lord.” “Wh-e-w!” whistled Father Tron, not audibly, only as it were within the mouth. “It is very true,” said Father Trinity, as he looked askance at the claimant, and contrasted her in his mind with the other Nelly, who he was satisfied was the real Nelly Pure, “that Mr Andrew Gebbie left that sum of money to a certain Helen Grey, but we have no evidence to show that you are the right woman.” “The right woman!” ejaculated she, with a bold laugh; “and how could I be the wrong ane, when I cut Andrew Gebbie’s corns for ten years?” “Oh, a chiropodist!” said Father Tron. “I’m nae corn-doctor, sir,” replied she, with something like offended pride: “I never cut another man’s corns in my life.” “We are nearly getting into that lightness of speech which betokeneth vanity,” said another of the brethren. “It is a serious matter; and we must require of you, Mrs Grey--seeing that the marriage cannot, even by your own statement, be taken into account, for want of evidence--to prove that you were upon such terms of friendship with Mr Gebbie as to make it probable that he would leave you this large sum of money.” “Friendship!” cried the woman again. “Ay, for ten years, and wha can tell where the flee may stang? It was nae mair than he should have dune. I am Helen Grey, and I insist upon my rights.” “But,” said Father Trinity, “there is another Helen Grey in Leith Wynd, with whom Mr Gebbie was acquainted, and to whom he made a present of a psalm-book.”