The Clever Woman of the Family

"May I come in?" said Alick, knocking at the door. "I have something to

tell you."

"What, Alick! Not Mr. Williams come?"

"Nothing so good. In fact I doubt if you will think it good at all. I

have been consulting this same solicitor about the title-deeds; that

cheese you let fall, you know," he added, stroking her hand, and

speaking so gently that the very irony was rather pleasant.

"Oh, it is very bad."

"Now wouldn't you like to hear it was so bad that I should have to sell

out, and go to the diggings to make it up?"

"Now, Alick, if it were not for your sake, you know I should like--"

"I know you would; but you see, unfortunately, it was not a cheese at

all, only a wooden block that the fox ran away with. Lawyers don't put

people's title-deeds into such dangerous keeping, the true cheese is

safe locked up in a tin-box in Mr. Martin's chambers in London."

"Then what did I give Mauleverer?"

"A copy kept for reference down here." Rachel hid her face.

"There, I knew you would think it no good news, and it is just a

thunder-clap to me. All you wanted me for was to defend the mother and

make up to the charity, and now there's no use in me," he said in a

disconsolate tone.

"Oh, Alick, Alick, why am I so foolish?"

"Never mind; I took care Martin should not know it. Nobody is aware

of the little affair but our two selves; and I will take care the fox

learns the worth of his prize. Only now, Rachel, answer me, is there any

use left for me still?"

"You should not ask me such things, Alick, you know it all too well."

"Not so well that I don't want to hear it. But I had more to say. This

Martin is a man of very different calibre from old Cox, with a head and

heart in London charities and churches, and it had struck him as it

did you, that the Homestead had an easier bargain of it than that good

namesake of yours had ever contemplated. If it paid treble or quadruple

rent, the dear mother would never find it out, nor grow a geranium the

less."

"No, she would not! But after all, the lace apprenticeships are poor

work."

"So they are, but Martin says there would be very little difficulty in

getting a private bill to enable the trustees to apply the sum otherwise

for the benefit of the Avonmouth girls."

"Then if I had written to him, it would have been all right! Oh, my

perverseness!"

"And, Rachel, now that money has been once so intended; suppose it

kept its destination. About £500 would put up a tidy little industrial

school, and you might not object to have a scholarship or two for some

of our little --th Highlander lassies whose fathers won't make orphans

of them for the regular military charities. What, crying, Rachel! Don't

you like it?"