Miss Seabright then related at length certain very judicious and extensive schemes of benevolence, and desired his opinion upon them. “Your plans of usefulness and beneficence would be both wise and good, reflecting honor on your head and heart, but that they lack the proper foundation of all schemes of action.” “What is that?” “Justice.” “Justice?” “Justice!” “I do not understand you in the least!” “Miss Seabright, have you ever learned how it was that you came into possession of all this estate?” “My dear godfather gave it to me.” “Do you know why he conveyed it to you in his life rather than bequeath it to you at his death?” “No.” “Because, had he merely bequeathed it to you, his will would have been set aside by our courts of justice in favor of his wife and child.” “Well, he did convey it to me! It is mine, at all events!” said Garnet, with a flushed cheek and brow. “And yet he had a wife and daughter whom he beggared to enrich you. Was this right?” “Right! Yes, it was right! He cut off a fugitive wife and a rebellious daughter! Right! Yes, it was right! He did it, and he could have done no wrong! Therefore it was right! Right! Yes, it was right! Who dares to gainsay it?” she exclaimed, with her bosom heaving and her color rising. “Ah! Miss Seabright, it is an ungracious task indeed to unveil before you the true character and hidden motives of your benefactor, of one whom you have always looked upon with affection and respect——” “Stop!” exclaimed Garnet breathlessly, and pressing both hands upon her bosom, as was her custom when trying to repress an eruption of anger. “Stop! If you are about to breathe a syllable reflecting upon the memory of my godfather—hold! I will not hear a breath, believe me! A word that should wound his good name would transfix my own heart.” “For your dear sake, Miss Seabright, I will respect the name of General Garnet; but for the dearer sake of justice I will plead the cause of his widow and daughter.” “Of his widow and daughter! I am not—the Lord knows it!—ungrateful, ungenerous, or cruel. I will largely dower them both.” “You will do no such thing, Miss Seabright! I trust there is too much latent nobility in your character to permit you to add such ‘insult’ to their ‘injury.’” “Then what is it that you wish me to do?” “What your conscience shall, after you understand the matter, dictate to be done. He who gave you the Mount Calm estate had no just right to do so. The whole of the estate came by his wife, and should descend to her daughter. It was held by her family, the Chesters, for two hundred years.” “Well, I think two centuries quite long enough for any one family to hold any one landed estate. I think it quite time the property had passed into other hands,” said Miss Seabright firmly. Then she added: “Besides, my godfather must have had a legal right to the property, else he could not have conveyed it to me.”