n sobs
of the child of Valerie Delavigne. He was astounded at her financial
carelessness, when she moaned:

"Let me go away! Let me go!" and then she cried, "What care I for all
this money--this useless wealth. He is gone! I am now alone in the
world! And--and, now I never will know the story of the past!" There was
a stony gleam on the old Scotchman's face as the girl sobbed, "Mother!
Mother! Lost to me forever, now." The cunning old Scotchman's face
darkened at the mention of that long-forbidden name. The woman who had
deserted the rich nabob.

With uneasy, tottering steps the old scholar paced the room, watching
the two women in a grim silence, until Justine Delande, with a woman's
questioning eyes, pointed to the rooms above.

"Before ye go, and I'll now give ye these whole papers and documents, I
would say that my dead brother Hugh has here in his will laid out yere
whole life for the three years of the minority. He has put on me the
thankless labor and care of watching over yere worldly gear, and of
keeping ye safely to the lines of prudence and of a just economy. And
my duty to my dead brother, I will do just as his own words and hand and
seal lay it down! To-morrow I will have much to say to you. If ye will
come back to me here, Madame Delande, when my ward goes to her own room,
I'll see ye at once on a brief matter o' business. And now I'll wait
till ye take her away!" It was a half hour before Justine Delande
descended to the rooms where the old egoist chafed at the loss of time
stolen from the maundering researches on Thibet and the Ten Tribes.

"Woman! woman! I sent up for ye twice!" he barked, as the half-defiant
Swiss governess at length joined him.

"I know my duty to my dear child, Nadine!" said the stout-hearted
governess, with a crimsoning cheek. The old man opened a check-book, and
sternly said:

"Sit ye there! I'll arrange yere business in a few minutes! And, then,
ye can find other duties, and know them as ye care to. I'll have none of
yere hoity-toity airs here!" Regardless of the look of horror stealing
over the face of Justine, the old man coldly proceeded as if receding
from the pulpit. "My late brother, Hugh Fraser Johnstone, of Delhi and
Calcutta, has sent me his own last instructions and orders. I have here
the last receipt for the stipend which ye have been allowed--and, I'm
duly following his orders, when I give ye this check for the six months
that has yet too to run.

"And-look y