at day.

Chapter VII. A VISTA OF NEW FORTUNES

Nan said nothing to Bess Harley, her particular chum and confidant,
about the wonderful letter that had come from Scotland. Although Momsey
and Nan talked the legacy over intimately that Saturday afternoon, and
planned what they would really do with some of the money "when their
ship came in," the young girl knew that the matter was not to be
discussed outside of the family circle.

Not even the hope Nan now cherished of accompanying her chum to Lakeview
Hall when the next school year opened was divulged when the two girls
were together on Sunday, or on the days that immediately followed.

Nan Sherwood went about her household and school tasks in a sort of
waking dream. Imagination was continually weaving pictures in her mind
of what might happen if the vista of new fortunes that had opened before
the little family in the Amity Street cottage really came true.

Papa Sherwood's first reports on the matter of the Scotch legacy were
not inspiring.

"Mr. Bludsoe says we'd better go slow," he said seriously. Mr. Bludsoe
was a lawyer of high repute in Tillbury. "This letter may be written by
an attorney in Edinburgh; but there are rascally lawyers there as well
as elsewhere. Bludsoe had correspondents in London. They may be able to
inform him regarding the firm of solicitors, Kellam & Blake, if the firm
really is entered at the Scotch bar."

"Oh! But won't that mean delay?" murmured Nan.

"Meanwhile," said her father, smiling at her impatience, "we will
prepare the papers identifying your dear mother so that, if this
wonderful new fortune should be a reality, we can put in a proper claim
for it. Just the same," he added to his wife, when Nan had left the
room, "I have written to that machine shop boss in Chicago that I am
ready to come to work any day he may send for me."

"Oh, Robert!" gasped the little lady. "Won't you believe?"

"Like the darkey who was asked if he believed the world was round, and
said, 'Ah believes it, but Ah ain't dead sho' of it.' I presume this
great fortune is possible, Jessie, but I haven't perfect and abiding
faith in its existence, FOR us," said her husband.

But Momsey had just that quality of faith. She went singing about her
household tasks and her usual smile beamed quite beatific. So said Dr.
Christian, who stepped in to see her, as was his custom every few days.

"What's this? What's this?" the old medical practitioner demanded