“Here’s news, my dear!” he said. “You’ll be just as glad of it as I. Yrndale is ours—at least so my old friend Heron says, and he ought to know. Cousin Strafford left no will. He is certain there is none. She persistently put off making one, with the full intention, he believes, that the property should come to me, her lawful heir and next of kin. He thinks she did not have the heart to leave it to anyone else. Thank God! It is a lovely place. Nothing could have given me more pleasure.”

“I am indeed glad, Raymount,” said his wife—who called him by his family name on important occasions. “You always had a fancy for playing the squire.”

“A great fancy for a little room, rather,” replied her husband—”not much, I fear, for the duties of a squire. There is money as well, I am glad to say—enough to keep the place up, anyhow.”

“I have no doubt you will develop into a model farmer and landlord,” replied his wife.

“You must take the business part,” he returned, “at least till Corney is fit to look after it.”

But his wife’s main thought was what influence the change would have on Hester’s marriage prospects. In her heart she hated the thought that property should have anything to do with marriage—yet this was almost her first thought. Inside us are played more fantastic tricks than any we play in the face of the world.

“Are the children to be told?” she asked.

“I suppose so. It would be a shame not to let them share in our gladness. And yet I hate to think of them talking about it, as children will.”

“I am not afraid of the children,” returned his wife. “I must simply tell them not to talk about it. I am as confident in Mark as if he were fifty. Saffy might forget, but Mark will keep her in line.”

When she returned to the dining room, Cornelius was gone, but the rest were still at the table. She told them that God had given them a beautiful house in the country with hills and woods and a swift flowing river. Saffy clapped her hands, crying, “Oh, mama!” and could hardly sit on her chair. Mark was perfectly still, but his eyes looked like ears. The moment her mother ceased, Saffy jumped down and made a rush for the door.

“Saffy, Saffy, where are you going?” cried her mother.

“To tell Sarah,” answered Saffy.

“Come back, my child. Your papa and I wish you to say nothing whatever about it to anyone.”

“O-oh!” returned Saffy. Both her look and tone said, “What’s the good of it then?”