tte
all. Now, coming to his side, she put her arms about him, and knelt,
looking into his face.

"Charlotte, you know what I have been," he said.

"Father, I know what you are now," she answered.

After these few words, she would scarcely allow him to speak again, for
he was very weak, too weak to leave his bed; but later on, in the course
of the day, they had a long talk together, and Charlotte told her father
of her own suffering during the past weeks. There was no longer need of
concealment between them, and Charlotte made none. It was a very few
days later that two trustees of the late Mr. Harman's will saw each
other for the first time.

Sandy Wilson had often looked forward to the moment when he could speak
out his mind as to the enormity of the crime committed by Mr. Harman.
Hitherto, this worthy man had felt that in this respect circumstances
had been hard on him. _His_ Daisy, his pretty little gentle sister, had
been treated as hardly, as cruelly, as woman could be treated, and yet
the robber--for was he not just a common robber?--had got off scot free;
he was to get off scot free to the very end; he was to be let die in
peace; and afterwards, his innocent child, his only daughter, must bear
the brunt of his misdeeds. She must be put to grief and shame, while he,
the one on whose head the real sin lay, escaped. Sandy felt that it
would have been some slight relief to his wounded feelings if he could
find some one to whom he could thoroughly and heartily abuse Mr. Harman.
But even this satisfaction was denied him. Mr. Home was a man who would
listen to abuse of none; and even Charlotte, though her eyes did flash
when his name was mentioned, even she was simply silent, and to all the
rest of the world Sandy must keep the thing a secret.

There was no doubt whatever that when, the day after Mr. Harman's
confession, the Homes came to Uncle Sandy and told him, not only all,
but also that at any moment he might receive a summons to visit Mr.
Harman, he felt a sense of exultation; also that his exultation was
caused, not by the fact that his niece would now get back her own, for
he had supplied her immediate need for money, but by the joyful sense
that at last, at last, he, Sandy, could speak out his full mind. He
could show this bad man, about whom every one was so strangely, so
absurdly silent, what _he_ thought of his conduct to his dear little
sister. He went away to Prince's Gate, when at last the summons ca