The earnestness of her cry showed the depths to which that desire had plumbed during these last weeks of privation and uncertainty. It was Nan's first practical thought in relation to the possibility of their changed circumstances.
The father and mother looked at each other with shocked understanding. The surprise attending the letter had caused both parents to forget, for the moment, the effect of this wonderful promise of fortune, whether true or false, on imaginative, high-spirited Nan.
“Let us be happy at first, Nan, just in the knowledge that some money is coming to us,” Mrs. Sherwood said more quietly. “Never mind how much, or how little. Time will tell all that.”
“Now you talk like father,” cried Nan, pouting.
“And let father talk a little, too,” Mr. Sherwood said, smiling, “and to you both.” His right forefinger struck the letter emphatically in his other hand. “This is a very wonderful, a blessed, thing, if true. But it has to be proven. We must build our hopes on no false foundation.”
“Oh, Papa Sherwood! How can we, when the man says there——-”
“Hush!” whispered Momsey, squeezing her excited little daughter's hand.
“In the first place,” continued Mr. Sherwood quietly and gravely, “there may be some mistake in the identification of your mother, child, as the niece mentioned in this old man's will.”
“Oh!” Nan could not help that gasp.
“Again, there may be stronger opposition to her claim than this lawyer at present sees. Fifty thousand dollars is a whole lot of money, and other people by the name of Blake will be tempted by it.”