"Did he only talk to you? Truly, did he?"
"So far as I know. Your uncle telegraphed for me to come to the office, and I reached there this morning. I suppose Mr. Dunham hadn't promised not to talk about you to anybody on earth, had he? Your Cousin Jacob is harmless."
Sylvia looked into the small eyes so luminous with kindness.
"But it was Uncle—Judge Trent who sent for you?"
"Yes, I think he'd somehow got the idea that you didn't care about seeing him."
"They've been cruel to me. Aunt Martha was—Oh, I mustn't, I can't speak of it!" The girl's lips pressed together after the vehement burst.
"Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth," said Cousin Jacob. The quotation from his lips became a remark. His companion looked at him in surprise. "I've an idea you're some ways off the inheritance, Sylvia."
"There's a difference between meekness and servility, I hope," she returned hotly.
"I hope so," agreed Jacob Johnson equably. "This matter's just like everything else, little girl. You haven't any call to do anything about it but just think right."
"Oh," murmured Sylvia impatiently.