"I wish you might not," said he; "but the fact which you referred to to-day—that you are, under the will of my grandfather, the owner of Mulberry Hill, makes it necessary that you should."
"Please, Hesden, don't mention that. I was angry then. Please forget it. What can that have to do with this horrid matter?"
"It has this to do with it, mother," he replied. "The boundaries of that grant, as shown by the record, are identical with the record of the grant under which our grandfather claimed the estate of which this is a part, and which is one of the first entered upon the records of Horsford County."
"What do you say, Hesden? I don't understand you," said his mother, anxiously.
"Simply that the land bequeathed in this will of J. Richards, is the same as that afterward claimed and held by my grandfather, James Richards, and in part now belonging to you."
"It cannot be, Hesden, it cannot be! There must be some mistake!" she exclaimed, impatiently.
"I wish there were," he answered, "but I fear there is not. The will names as executor, 'my beloved cousin James Richards, of the borough of Lancaster, in the State of Pennsylvania.' I presume this to have been my grandfather. I have had the records of both counties searched and find no record of any administration upon this will."
"You do not think a Richards could have been so dishonorable as to rob his cousin's orphans?"
"Alas! mother, I only know that we have always claimed title under that very grant. The grant itself is among your papers in my desk, and is dated in 1789. I have always understood that grandfather married soon after coming here."
"Oh, yes, dear," was the reply, "I have heard mother tell of it a hundred times."