epared.
There never was a kinder soul, a more unselfish man, nor a more
generous. Oh, you don't know how good he was to the poor, how kind and
gentle to every one who suffered! Oh, God has him in His safe keeping
somewhere!"

"Well, well," said Essec Powell, sitting down to his dinner, "we won't
argue about it now, but some day, Valmai, I would like to explain to
you the difference between that natural goodness and the saving grace
which is necessary for salvation. Come to dinner, Valmai. I wonder
how much did he leave? When is the funeral?" he said, addressing Gwen.

"You've got to go down and settle that," she answered. "Will I tell
Shoni to put the gig ready?"

"Yes, yes. I better go. I will be back by Sunday."

"James Harris will help you in every way, uncle, and will settle
everything for you."

"Oh! very well, very well. Tis a pity about the 'Mabinogion,' too; but
we'll go on with them next week, Valmai."

Shoni and Gwen continued until bedtime to discuss with unction every
item of information past, possible, or prospective, connected with the
death of the old Captain, while Valmai lay on the old red sofa, and
thought sadly of her loss.

"There's sudden," said Gwen, "but 'twill be a good thing for the
master, whatever!"

Valmai lay awake far into the night recalling with tears the kindness
and even tenderness of her old uncle.

On the following Saturday Essec Powell returned from the funeral, and
as he stepped out of the gig at the door, his face wore an unusual
expression which Valmai noticed at once. He seemed more alive to the
world around him; there was a red spot on each cheek, and he did not
answer his niece's low greeting, but walked into the parlour with a
stamping tread very unlike his usual listless shuffle.

"Are you tired, uncle?" the girl asked gently.

"No, I am not tired; but I am hurt and offended with you, Valmai. You
are a sly, ungrateful girl, and it is very hard on me, a poor,
struggling preacher very badly paid, to find that my only brother has
left all his worldly goods to you, who are already well provided for.
What do you think yourself? Wasn't it a shame on you to turn him
against his brother?"

"Oh, I never did," said Valmai; "I never thought of such a thing!
Dear, dear Uncle John! I didn't want his money, I only wanted his
love."

"What is the matter?" said Gwen, coming in.

"Matter enough," said her master, in angry, stammering tones. "John,
my brother,