“No; but we had everything amongst us. Grandfather took this, and Tom Noonan took that, and Mark Tracey got the other, and this—this was mine.”
“Were you sorry for your aunt?” asked Vyner.
“No, I didn’t care.”
“Not care for your father’s or your mother’s sister?”
“She was my mother’s sister, but we never saw her. She couldn’t come to us, and he wouldn’t let us come to her.”
“He, I suppose, means her husband?”
The child nodded assent.
“And what was the reason of this; was there a family quarrel?”
“No. It was because he was a gentleman.” “Indeed!” broke in Grenfell. “How did you know that?”
“Because he never worked, nor did anything for his living. He could stay all day out on the sea-shore gathering shells, and go home when he pleased to his meals or his bed.”