“Don’t talk that way, mother. I’m part of the family, and I’m old enough to have a share and a voice in all these matters. But just think what it would mean, if father had his pardon! Look at this room, and think, he has never been in it! Never has seen the pictures—the view from the window, the general coziness of it all.” “I know, dear, but that’s an old story. Your father is accustomed to living only in his own rooms——” “And not to be able to go to the other end of the dining-room or living-room, if he chooses! It’s outrageous!” “Yes, Maida, I quite agree—but no more outrageous than it was last week—or last year.” “Yes, it is! It grows more outrageous every minute! Mother, what did that old will say? That you must live in Massachusetts?” “Yes—you know that, dear.” “Of course I do. And if you lived elsewhere, what then?” “I forfeit the inheritance.” “And what would become of it?” “In default of any other heirs, it would go to the State of Massachusetts.” “And there are no other heirs?” “What ails you, Maida? You know all this. No, there are no other heirs.” “You’re sure?” “As sure as we can be. Your father had every possible search made. There were advertisements kept in the papers for years, and able lawyers did all they could to find heirs if there were any. And, finding none, we were advised that there were none, and we could rest in undisturbed possession.” “Suppose one should appear, what then?” “Then, little girl, we’d give him the keys of the house, and walk out.” “Where would we walk to?” “I’ve no idea. In fact, I can’t imagine where we could walk to. But that, thank heaven, is not one of our troubles. Your father would indeed be desperately fixed if it were! You know, Maida, from a fine capable business man, he became a wreck, because of that unjust trial.” “Father _never_ committed the forgery?” “Of course not, dear.” “Who did?” “We don’t know. It was cleverly done, and the crime was purposely fastened on your father, because he was about to be made the rival candidate of Mr. Appleby, for governor.” “I know. And Mr. Appleby was at the bottom of it!” “Your father doesn’t admit that——” “He must have been.” “Hush, Maida. These matters are not for you to judge. You know your father has done all he honestly could to be fully pardoned, or to discover the real criminal, and as he hasn’t succeeded, you must rest content with the knowledge that there was no stone left unturned.” “But, mother, suppose Mr. Appleby has something more up his sleeve. Suppose he comes down on dad with some unexpected, some unforeseen blow that——” “Maida, be quiet. Don’t make me sorry that we have let you into our confidence as far as we have. These are matters above your head. Should such a thing as you hint occur, your father can deal with it.” “But I want to help——”