that any of the Gordon Murrays would ever come into possession of
Strathleckie, but it is not at all improbable now."

"Where do these Murrays live?"

"In London, I think. I am not sure. I have asked Colquhoun to find out
all that he can about them. If there is a young fellow in the family, it
might be well to let him know his prospects and invite him down. I could
settle an income on him if he were poor. Then the estate would benefit
somebody."

"You can do as you like with the income," said Hugo.

The words escaped him half against his will. He stole a glance at Brian
when they were uttered, as if anxious to ascertain whether or no his
cousin had divined his own grudging, envious thoughts. He heartily
wished that Richard's money had come to him. In Brian's place it would
never have crossed his mind that he should throw away the good fortune
that had fallen to his lot. If only he were in this lucky young Murray's
shoes!

Brian did not guess the thoughts that passed through Hugo's mind, but
that murmured speech reminded him of another point which he wished to
make quite clear.

"Yes, I can do what I like with the income," he said, "and also with a
sum of money that my father invested many years ago which nobody has
touched at present. There are twelve thousand pounds in the Funds, part
of which I propose to settle upon you so as to make you more independent
of my help in the future."

Hugo stammered out something a little incoherent; it was a proposition
which took him completely by surprise. Brian continued quietly--

"Of course, I might continue the allowance that you have had hitherto,
but then, in the event of my death, it would cease, for I cannot leave
it to you by will. I have thought that it would be better, therefore, to
transfer to you six thousand pounds, Hugo, over which you have complete
control. All I ask is that you won't squander it. Colquhoun says that he
can safely get you five per cent for it. I would put it in his hands, if
I were you. It will then bring you in three hundred a year."

"Brian, you are too good to me," said Hugo. There were tears in his
eyes; his voice trembled and his cheek flushed as he spoke "You don't
know----"

Then he stopped and covered his face with his hands. A very unwonted
feeling of shame and regret overpowered him; it was as much as he could
do to refrain from crying like a child. "I can't thank you," he said,
with a sob which made Brian smile a little, and l