He looked at them, and at me, and his eyes filled. “Milly! Milly!” he answered, “you are a good child, and I thank God for you, but you must keep your money; Father does not need it. You know about your Uncle Bell, do you not?”
“I know nothing of Uncle Bell, Father. I wrote to him once, but he never answered my letter.”
“Then I must tell you, that on the fifth of last February, your mother’s birthday, he called on Mother and gave her the row of cottages standing on Tenter Fell. Now, Milly, the income from there, just about balances the loss I made through that villain, Blackpool. So, my dear, we have enough, and even a little to spare; what more does a child of God want?” and as he spoke, he gently pushed the sovereigns towards me.
“No one told me about Uncle Bell,” I said. “I wish I had known.”
“I remember, we thought it best not to name it. You would 79 not have saved twenty pounds if you had known of the gift, and you might have missed some fine lessons, that only a sense of poverty teaches.”
I soon went back to Mother. I found her sitting quiet in the gloaming. I told her about the twenty pounds, and said, “Dear Mother, you and I will divide it. Will you take half?”
“I will take it gladly,” she answered. “There are so many little things a woman wants, that I do not like to ask Father for.”
“I know that, Mother,” I answered. “Have I not seen you alter the dressing of your hair, because you broke one of your side combs, and did not wish to trouble Father about a new pair. I can recall twenty things, that were a distress to you to want, and which you did without rather than——”
“Milly, that ten pounds puts all right. I shall get what I want out of it.”
“Did not Uncle Bell leave you some money, Mother?”