"Pure gold from the Golden West!" said the old man, as he stretched out his hands eagerly and ran the nugget chain through his fingers. "And I mocked at his poor father, and told him it was all a myth. Put it away, Gertie. George is to wear that always, my dear. I've saved it for him. You know I've only worn it on his birthdays since." "Yes, uncle, dear," said the girl gravely, as she replaced the watch in its case. "And now look here, my dear," said the old man, taking up a small pocket-ledger and handing it to Gertie; "open at page six." "Yes, uncle," said the girl wonderingly; and then looking at him for further instructions. "Do you see that?" "Yes, uncle--entries of money, twenty-five pounds, over and over again." "Do you know what that means?" "No, uncle; but you are tiring yourself." "Ay, but I shall have plenty of time to rest, Gertie, by-and-bye." "Uncle, dear!" "Ah, don't you cry. Listen, Gertie. I wanted to try him--George. I'm a suspicious old man, and I said when he sent me that watch, a year after his father and mother died, `It's a sprat to catch a herring!' Ha, ha, ha! and I waited and wrote to him--such a lie, Gertie--such a lie, my dear." "Uncle!" "Yes, the biggest lie I ever told. I wrote and told him that things had gone wrong with me--so they had, for I had lost two hundred and fifty pounds by a man who turned out a rogue--and I begged George to try and help his poor old grandfather in England for his father's sake, and might I sell the watch." "And what did he say, uncle?" cried Gertrude eagerly. "He sent me a hundred pounds, Gertie, in an order on a London bank; and he said if I ever sold that watch he would never forgive me, for it was his father's wish that he should send it as a specimen of the gold I had disbelieved in. A hundred pounds, Gertie, and ever since, for four years now, he has sent me twenty-five pounds every quarter." "Then he thinks you are poor?" "Yes, he did till I sent to him to come home. But I invested every penny, Gertie, and there is the interest; and now what do you say? Is he a true man--good enough to love?" "Oh, uncle--yes!" cried the girl, with the tears glittering in her eyes. "Yes, my darling, a worthy husband for you; one who will love and protect you when I'm gone." "But, uncle, dear--" faltered the girl. "Yes--yes?" "Does--does he know?" "That he is to marry you? Yes. He knows by now that he is a rich man, or will be when I'm gone, and that he has the sweetest, truest little wife waiting for him here. Put the book away; you and Mr Hampton know everything. Lock up the cabinet and put the keys under the pillow again; and some morning, when you find I'm too fast asleep to wake again, take the keys and keep them for my dear boy." "Oh, uncle, dearest!" sobbed the girl.