"She was a good woman," he continued, his voice a little husky. "I should like to think that Wyndham would have another such mistress. She looked well to the ways of her household, and ate not the bread of idleness. Sometimes I fancy I see a resemblance to her in you, Aldyth. Well, well, if Guy wins a wife worthy to succeed her, she shall make what changes she likes in the old house. This room shall be refurnished for her, and made a pretty room again."
Aldyth's heart beat quickly. She was touched and pained, and at a loss what to say.
"Dear uncle," she said, hurriedly, "I am sure it would pain you to turn out the old furniture you have known all your life."
"Maybe it would," he admitted; "but what of that? My time here is almost over. We would have a new piano, Aldyth. Did not that fiddling man find fault with this?"
"He said it was below concert pitch," replied Aldyth, understanding her uncle to refer to Captain Walker.
"Well, then, we would have that set right. And, Aldyth, I have things in my keeping that I wish should come into no hands but yours. There are some trinkets my mother used to wear—jewels of real value, I believe. You could have them reset, I suppose, to suit your fancy."
"Oh, uncle, please do not speak of that!" cried Aldyth, in distress. She could not help seeing what her uncle had in his mind; but he expressed himself so vaguely that it was impossible for her to meet his words with a decided statement concerning herself.
"Do you not care for jewels?" he asked. "I thought all women loved them."
"Oh, I admire them, certainly," said Aldyth; "but there are many things I care more for."
"You are a good girl," said her uncle. "You care to make others happy, I know. You will try," he added significantly, as he kissed her on the forehead, "you will try to do what will add so greatly to the happiness of my last days on earth."