"Strange!" Harvey uttered.
"You see! The most he thought of was ten thousand," said Hermione. "And I shall never want so much."
"When did you say it was written?" Julia inquired. "On the Saturday? The very same day that he wrote of twenty thousand pounds to Mr. Selwyn!"
"Probably at the same time. That must have been a slip of the pen," Harvey said gravely. "His mind was no doubt confused."
"Poor grandfather! Yes; the illness was coming on even then. But there is no mistake about what he really meant. He gives his reasons for the one, not for the other."
"True!" Harvey murmured. There was a brief silence of two or three minutes, during which he bent his head in deep thought. Julia watched him fearfully. Hermione seemed almost indifferent, certainly not anxious.
Then Harvey raised his eyes, a new light in them. "The ten thousand pounds shall be yours, Hermione. I will take steps at once."
Hermione looked disturbed.
"Is that right? Is it needful?"
"I think so; both right and needful. You have made matters plain. If he had lived another week, it would have been yours. It shall be yours now!"