It was true. The cheque in Faith's shaking hands was for one hundred pounds to be paid to Miss Faith Blair, and the little note was as follows:
"MY DEAR LITTLE MISS MOTH,
"I shall be gone away from you when you receive this, for I do not mean you to have it till after my death; and you will not get it until your birthday. It is in remembrance of a grateful old man, and, knowing your careful little soul, I want you to spend this money whilst you are young, in the best way that you can. Don't hoard it. Spend it on yourself and on others. There are no conditions attached to it. I humbly hope that you and I may one day meet each other again in that Land where you tell me everyone is welcome.
"Your old friend,
"W. CARDWELL."
Aunt Alice seemed stricken dumb, but she read the letter through, and passed it to Granny, who began to wipe her spectacles when she had finished it.
"Is it true?" asked Faith. "Can it be true that I've got a hundred pounds?"
"Yes, dear, it is. I'm sure I had no idea that such a present was in store for you."
Then Aunt Alice began to fold up the pieces of stray paper scattered over the bed.
"We must talk about it after breakfast," she said; "come along, children."
Charity and Hope went to their breakfast; but their talk was full of this wonderful gift.
"Why," said Charity, "Faith could buy a cottage of her own, couldn't she, with a hundred pounds?"
Aunt Alice laughed.