“Of course. That was the sensible thing to do. But this only makes the matter seem more mysterious. She accepted your offer, I suppose, and why, then, she should----” “She didn't accept it.” “What! Did she make a demand on you to return the whole property?” “Never. But she suggested that we should make good the three hundred a year of her annuity.” “But isn't that what you say you promised her?” “We told her we couldn't afford that; but we offered her fifty-two pounds a year.” “A pound a week--one pound a week? Oh, my dear lady! A pound a week! Surely you are joking.” “We thought that she must surely have saved a good deal during the twelve years.” “Three hundred a year, when you deduct the in-come tax, doesn't leave a gentlewoman much margin for saving.” The man of the law shook his head and assumed a very serious look. “Of course, I can't say anything at this moment as to the sort of case they have against you; but I do not feel justified in concealing from you my impression that if it is as we suppose, and Mr. Trent has pronounced against the deed, the Court will take his view of it. Trent is not the man to try on any sharp practice. And my advice to you is to make any sacrifice to prevent the case from going before the Court. Trent, if he is moving in the matter, must feel the ground pretty firm under his feet. What a pity it was that you did not suggest three hundred a year to the lady instead of--oh, that was undoubtedly a mistake--a pound a week. Well, we can only do our best in the circumstances. Who are the solicitors that sent you the letter?” The lady gave him the name of the firm, and in due course he communicated with them. An examination of the doubtful document removed the possibility of his retaining any doubt as to its being invalid, and his clients were assured that they could not contend the case there was against them. After this, I suppose, there was a scene that could only have justice done to its varied features by the pen of a gifted novelist. I can see the weeping niece on her knees in front of the old lady who had been her benefactrix, but whom she had repaid with gross ingratitude. Her children would possibly be kneeling by her side--they certainly would on the lyric stage or in the last chapter of the novel. No doubt the aunt would be greatly affected, though properly reproachful. But I doubt if the gallery of the theatre or the readers of the novelette would be quite satisfied with the conclusion of the story; for the generous aunt allowed her original gift to stand, only stipulating for her three hundred a year out of the estate. Whatever humour one may perceive in these stories is certainly of that unusual type which one might expect to find associated with a cathedral town. It is the humour of an Old Testament parable--hard, and with a lesson attached to it.