"Who told you that?" "A gentleman in the train." Beth put her pencil in her mouth, and gazed up at the sky. "I don't suppose he'd be such a black-hearted villain as to break his word," she said at last. "Who?" Aunt Grace Mary asked, in a startled tone. "Uncle James--about leaving Jim the place, you know. Why, don't you know? Mamma is the eldest, and ought to have had Fairholm, but she was away in Ireland, busy having me, when grandpapa died, and couldn't come; so Uncle James frightened the old man into leaving the place to him, and mamma only got fifty pounds a year, which wasn't fair." "Who told you this, Beth?" "Mildred. Mamma told her. And Horner said the other day to cook--I'll have to say it the way Horner says it. If I said it my way, you know, then it wouldn't be Horner--Horner said to cook as 'ow Captain Caldwell 'ud 'a' gone to law about it, but squire 'e swore if 'e'd let the matter drop, 'e'd make 'is nevee, Master Jim, as is also 'is godson, 'is heir, an' so square it; and Captain Caldwell, as was a real gen'lmon, an' fond of the ladies, tuk 'im at 'is word, an' furgiv' 'im. But, lardie! don't us know the worth o' Mr. James Patten's word!" Aunt Grace Mary had turned very pale. "Beth," she gasped, "promise me you will never, never, _never_ say a word about this to your uncle." "Not likely," said Beth. "How do you remember these things you hear?" "Oh, I just think them over again when I go to bed, and then they stay," Beth answered. "I wouldn't tell you half I hear, though--only things everybody knows. If you tell secrets, you know, you're a tell-pie. And I'm not a tell-pie. Now, Bernadine is. She's a regular tell-pie. It seems as if she couldn't help it; but then she's young," Beth added tolerantly. "Were you ever young, I wonder?" Aunt Grace Mary muttered to herself. CHAPTER XIII