“Thomas,” protested Miss Jemima, “do you think it would be right to hand over uncle’s hard-earned money to that poor wastrel?”
“His right to the money, Jemima, is as good as ours.”
“Perhaps so; but I feel convinced that uncle would not have wished for any part of his money to go to Jack. It would be like flinging it into the sea.”
“Yes; but that cuts both ways, Jemima. Uncle would never have willed his money to me, any more than to Jack. But God has given it to me, and I mean to use it in the way of which I believe He will approve.”
“And that is not all,” he hastily resumed. “I have another relative;” and he directed a look of loving significance towards his sister’s face. “Do you think that, if I admit the claim of our poor scapegrace cousin to a share of our uncle’s money, I shall overlook the right of the dear sister who has been my stay and comfort all these sorrowing years?”
“But—but——” began Miss Jemima, in bewildered tones.
“Yes, you are to have your share too, Jemima.”
“But, brother I don’t desire it. If you have the money, it’s all the same as though I had it myself.”
With all her severity, there was not an atom of selfishness in Miss Jemima Horn.
“It’s all arranged,” was her brother’s reply. “I instructed the lawyers to divide the property into three equal portions.”