"You and Uncle Nathan ought to have wives to look after you," declared Milly as she poured out tea. "You men be unfinished, awkward things alone. You'm always wanting us at every turn, for one reason or another, and after middle age a man looks a fool half his time if he haven't got a woman for his own. Men do the big things and alter the face of the earth and all that, but what becomes of their clever greatness without our clever littleness?" "Cant!--cant! You all talk that stuff and 'tisn't worth answering. Ask the sailors if they can't sew better than their sweethearts." Mr. Baskerville was in a hard mood and would allow no credit to the sex. He endured his pain without comment, but it echoed itself in impatient and rather bitter speeches. Rupert fell back on other members of the family, and spoke of his uncle, the master of 'The White Thorn.' "The good that man does isn't guessed," he said. "The little things--you'd be surprised--yet 'tisn't surprising neither, for every soul you meet speaks well of him; and a man can't win to that without being a wonder. He's made of human kindness, and yet never remembers the kind things he does--no memory for 'em at all." Humphrey conceded the nobility of this trait, and Milly spoke. "Not like some we could name, who'll give a gift to-day and fling it in your face to-morrow." "There are such. My mother's father was such a one," said Mr. Baskerville. "He never forgot a kindness--that he'd done himself. He checked his good angel's record terrible sharp, did that man." There came an interruption here, and unexpected visitors in the shape of Nicholas Bassett, the young man who had married Polly Baskerville, and Polly herself. Nicholas was nervous and stood behind his wife; Polly was also nervous, but the sight of her brother Rupert gave her courage. Her uncle welcomed her with astonishment. "Wonders never cease," he said. "I didn't count to get a visit from you, Polly, or your husband either. You needn't stand there turning your Sunday hat round and round, Bassett. I shan't eat you, though people here do seem to think I'm a man-eater." "We came for advice," said Polly, "and I made bold to bring Nicholas. In fact, 'twas his idea that I should speak to you." Mr. Baskerville was gratified, but his nature forbade him to show it. "A new thing to come to Uncle Humphrey when you might go to Uncle Nathan," he said. "'Tis just about Uncle Nathan is the difficulty," declared his niece. Then she turned to her husband. "You speak, Nick. You must know that Nick's rather slow of speech, and can't get his words always, but he's improving. Tell Uncle Humphrey how 'tis, Nick." Mr. Bassett nodded, dried a damp brow with a red handkerchief, and spoke. "'Tis like this here," he began. "Under Mr. Vivian Baskerville's will--him being my wife's father--she had five hundred pound." "We all know that," said Rupert. "And May, too."