oubt if you will keep much of it to yourself."

"Oh yes," Jean assured him. "I'm going to buy myself a musquash coat
with a skunk collar. I've always wanted one frightfully. You'll stay and
have luncheon with us, won't you?"

Mr. Dickson stayed to luncheon, and was treated with great respect by
Jock and Mhor. The latter had a notion that somewhere the lawyer had a
cave in which he kept Jean's fortune, great casks of gold pieces and
trunks of precious stones, and that any lack of manners on his part
might lose Jean her inheritance. He was disappointed to find him dressed
like any ordinary man. He had had a dim hope that he would look like Ali
Baba and wear a turban.

After Mr. Dickson had finished saying all he had come to say, and had
gone to catch his train, Jean started out to call on her minister.
Pamela met her at the gate.

"Well, Jean, and whither away? You look very grave. Are you going to
tell the King the sky's falling?"

"Something of that kind. I'm going to see Mr. Macdonald. I've got
something I want to ask him."

"I suppose you don't want me to go with you? I love an excuse to go and
see the Macdonalds. Oh, but I have one. Just wait a moment, Jean, while
I run back and fetch something."

She joined Jean after a short delay, and they walked on together. Jean
explained that she was going to ask Mr. Macdonald's advice how best to
use her money.

"Has the lawyer been?" Pamela asked, "Do you understand about things?"

Jean told of Mr. Dickson's visit.

"It's a fearful lot of money, Pamela. But when it's divided into four,
that's four people to share the responsibility."

"And what are you going to do with your share?"

"I'll tell you what I'm not going to do. I'm not going to take a house
and fill it with guests who will be consistently unpleasant, as the
Benefactress did. And I'm not going to build a sort of fairy palace and
commit suicide from the roof like the millionaire in that book _Midas_
something or other. And I _hope_ I'm not going to lose my imagination
and forget what it feels like to be poor, and send a girl with a small
dress allowance half a dozen muslin handkerchiefs at Christmas."

"I suppose you know, Jean--I don't want to be discouraging--that you
will get very little gratitude, that the people you try to help will
smarm to your face and blackguard you behind your back? You will be
hurt and disappointed times without number.... You see, my dear, I've
had money for quite a lot o