"But he must be dead, or he'd have come back," reasoned Miss Flora, with worried eyes; "and I, for my part, think we OUGHT to go into mourning, too."

"Of course he'd have come back," declared Mrs. Jane, "and kept the money himself. Don't you suppose he knew what he'd written in that letter, and don't you suppose he'd have saved those three hundred thousand dollars if he could? Well, I guess he would! The man is dead. That's certain enough."

"Well, anyhow, we're not going into mourning till we have to." Mrs. Harriet's lips snapped together with firm decision.

"Of course not. I'm sure I don't see any use in having the money if we've got to wear black and not go anywhere," pouted Bessie.

"Are we rich, then, really, ma?" demanded Benny.

"We certainly are, Benny."

"Richer 'n the Pennocks?"

"Very much."

"An' the Gaylords?"

"Well—hardly that"—her face clouded perceptibly—"that is, not until we get the rest—in two years." She brightened again.

"Then, if we're rich we can have everything we want, can't we?" Benny's eyes were beginning to sparkle.

"Well—" hesitated his mother.

"I guess there'll be enough to satisfy your wants, Benny," laughed his Uncle Frank.

Benny gave a whoop of delight.

"Then we can go back to the East Side and live just as we've a mind to, without carin' what other folks do, can't we?" he crowed. "Cause if we ARE rich we won't have ter keep tryin' ter make folks THINK we are. They'll know it without our tryin'."

"Benny!" The rest were laughing; but Benny's mother had raised shocked hands of protest. "You are incorrigible, child. The East Side, indeed! We shall live in a house of our own, now, of course—but it won't be on the East Side."

"And Fred'll go to college," put in Miss Flora eagerly.

"Yes; and I shall send Bessie to a fashionable finishing school," bowed Mrs. Harriet, with a shade of importance.

"Hey, Bess, you've got ter be finished," chuckled Benny.

"What's Mell going to do?" pouted Bessie, looking not altogether pleased. "Hasn't she got to be finished, too?"

"Mellicent hasn't got the money to be finished—yet," observed Mrs. Jane tersely.

"Oh, I don't know what I'm going to do," breathed Mellicent, drawing an ecstatic sigh. "But I hope I'm going to do—just what I want to, for once!"

"And I'll make you some pretty dresses that you can wear right off, while they're in style," beamed Miss Flora.

Frank Blaisdell gave a sudden laugh.

"But what are YOU going to do, Flo? Here you've been telling what everybody else is going to do with the money."

A blissful sigh, very like Mellicent's own, passed Miss Flora's lips.

"Oh, I don't know," she breathed in an awe-struck voice. "It don't seem yet—that it's really mine."