Sir Edward's former lawyer had died of the fever, but his son and successor at Bridgewater easily discovered among Sir Edward's papers additional evidence of the transaction. And as the baronet was perfectly methodical in all business affairs, and left abundance of ready money for the discharge of all debts, there seemed no doubt that Winifred's portion would be immediately forthcoming. It would be more easy to imagine than to describe the wrath of Dame Margery Evans at this discovery. In vain did her husband represent to her that the money in question had belonged to Winifred's father, and not to his own, and was therefore no concern of his. In vain did he tell her that, as they had never known of the existence of this six hundred pounds, they were no poorer without them. Dame Margery persisted in considering it as just so much bread taken out of the mouths of her own children. She lamented and scolded day and night, till her husband, worn out, assumed his rare tone of authority, and bade her never mention the subject in his hearing again, under pain of certain penalties not unusual in those days. It may be believed that Margery's gall was none the less bitter for this enforced suppression. She had come back to Bristol, determined, as she said, to see Winifred, and give her a piece of her mind. And the opportunity had come sooner than she expected. Winifred's affectionate anxiety to meet and greet her relatives had, so to speak, led her directly into the lion's jaws. She had as yet heard nothing of her good fortune, Lady Peckham having thought it better that the matter should be settled entirely before it was spoken of; and she stood perfectly aghast at the reception she met with. Dame Margery perceived her confusion, and followed up her advantage with a torrent of abuse of Winifred herself, and all her friends, including her mother, Lady Peckham, and the whole Corbet family. There was no telling how far she might have gone, if Betsey, becoming alarmed at her mother's violence, had not run down to the water-side and called her father. The presence of Master Evans at once restored quiet. Margery's storm of words subsided into a low mutter, and presently dissolved into a shower of tears, in which she bewailed her unhappy fate in meeting with such black ingratitude from those she had nourished as her own, alluded to frozen vipers which stung those who warmed them, and finally, having fairly worn out her fit of temper, was ready to meet Winifred with a sort of mournful solemnity, when she came down-stairs from packing up such of her possessions as remained at her aunt's, and dividing between the little girls the presents she had brought them: to hope that her sins would not be visited on her head, and that she would not come to shame and destruction among the fine folks who had taken her up, now that it was known she had a little money of her own.