"I think he was—very generous," said Elizabeth, looking up warmly. "I considered the matter for some time, and I wished that I could accept his kindness, but——"
"You don't mean to say that you refused it?"
"I did not refuse it altogether," explained Elizabeth, her face glowing. "I told him my circumstances, and all that my uncle had done for me, and that if he chose to place a sum of money at my uncle's disposal—I thought that, perhaps, it would be only right, and that I ought not to place an obstacle in the way. But I could not take anything for myself."
There was a little pause.
"Oh, Lizzie, how good you are!" cried Kitty, softly.
Percival took a step nearer; his face looked very dark.
"And, pray, what did the lawyer say to your proposition?" he inquired.
"He said he must communicate with Mr. Brian Luttrell, but he thought that there would be no objection to it on his part," said Elizabeth. "But he had not time to do so, you see. Brian Luttrell is dead. Here are all the letters about it, Aunt Isabel, if you want to see them. I was going to speak to Uncle Alfred this very day."
"Well, Lizzie," said Mrs. Heron, taking the letters from her niece's hand, "I am glad that we are honoured by your confidence at last. I think it would have been better, however, if you had told us a little earlier of poor Mr. Luttrell's kindness, and then other people could have managed the business for you. Of course, it would have been repugnant to your feelings to accept money for yourself, and another person could have accepted it in your name with a much better grace."
"But that is what I wanted to avoid," said Elizabeth, with a smile. "I would not have taken one penny for myself from Mr. Brian Luttrell, but if he would have repaid my uncle for part of what he has done for me——"