“Uncle Kingsworth knows,” interposed Emberance, with an effort at dignity. “Mr Mackenzie has lost some money, we have to wait longer than we supposed,—that is all. He can earn his living—and mine—by-and-by.”
“But if she was rich, uncle, Aunt Ellen would let them be married at once. I have decided, I see now that the wrong is real. I couldn’t keep it—and she to be unhappy. Not even if by any chance it may be mine.”
Canon Kingsworth took a hand of each, and looked from one to the other.
“And what do you suppose I mean to do with my money?” he said. “Do you know that you are my heiresses—my next of kin?”
“No,” said Kate, simply.
“Oh, uncle, don’t!” said Emberance; but he saw that she had heard the idea suggested.
“And Emberance has something from her mother and aunt.”
“But you are all alive,” said Kate; “and besides, if it is right—”
“Right? But that is your mother’s view, my child. It would be ‘right’ if Emberance did not need it.”
“But her needing it has made me see that it mattered about being right,” said Kate gravely.