"Y-yes," answered Miss Partridge. "Y-yes, sir—to invest it."
She put the thousand pounds in her old-fashioned reticule and went off to a legal gentleman whom she had once or twice had occasion to consult. To him she made a communication which caused him to stare.
"My dear madam," he exclaimed. "This is giving away all you possess."
"No," interrupted Miss Partridge. "I have the shop."
"Well, at any rate, take the place as security," began the solicitor; "and——"
"No," said Miss Partridge, firmly. "No, sir! No one is to know; no one is ever to know—except you—where the money came from. It's my money, and I've a right to do what I please with it."
"Oh, very well," said the solicitor. "Very well. I'll settle the matter at once. And you may be sure the poor things will be very grateful to their unknown benefactor."
Miss Partridge walked home by way of Stapleby churchyard. She turned into its quietude and sought out Robert Dickinson's grave. There were daisies growing on the green turf that covered it, and she gathered a little bunch of them and carried them home to put away with the ribbons and the locket. And that done she took off her best things and dropped once more into the old way of life.
CHAPTER V
THE MARRIAGE OF MR. JARVIS