“Well, we make a comfortable living, and shall continue to do so; and as for our dear children, we must educate them to work, as we have done. Let me give you your supper now, Magnus.”
“No—not just yet,” he said, smiling on her hand and pressing it.
“Well, then, let go my hand a minute, till I finish darning little Elsie’s stocking.”
“No! no more work to-night, Elsie,” he said firmly.
“Oh! just let me finish this last stocking; it completes the whole job.”
“No! no more work to-night! No more work ever more for you. The long, long trial you have borne so patiently, so nobly, is over. Elsie! dearest Elsie! fortune has come to us at last.”
Elsie stared at her husband with a look so blank that you could not have told whether she had heard good or bad news—an instant, and then a sudden joy broke over her countenance, and she exclaimed, in a voice of wonder and gladness:
“Fortune! You tell me so, Magnus, and it must be true.”
“Yes, fortune—yet it has come to us through such solemn, not to say tragic, circumstances that our prosperity must be received with a chastened spirit. Listen, dearest Elsie—this evening, as I returned home, I called at the post office and found a letter from Reynolds, who used to do all my Uncle Hardcastle’s law business. By his letter I learned that about five weeks since my unhappy cousin, Lionel, who had just returned from making the tour of Europe with his ward, was instantly killed on Hutton’s Island by the accidental discharge of a pistol. My uncle never recovered from the shock of his death, and he sank gradually until about five days since, when he died, leaving me sole heir to all his property and executor of his will.”
“Alas! Magnus, is it not a sad and grave thought, that no property which we do not make by our own toil ever comes to us except through the death or the misfortunes of others! Alas! Magnus, our prosperity should indeed be received with a very chastened spirit.”