"We are both of us fifteen," said Daisy. "Twins, dear little twins. But please tell us, we want to know what has become of all the rest of mumsie's money?"
"She left her entire property," said the lawyer, "to be divided into seven portions. These portions, were to be divided between yourselves, Mrs. Mostyn's second husband, the Reverend Patrick O'Brien, his three children, and his dear little niece. None of you can touch the capital until you come of age. Kitty O'Brien is at present only six. Her portion, therefore, will in all probability be the largest, as there will be a greater time for it to accrue. By the way, your mother made one provision, which I rather fought against, but she was determined. You are not any of you to come of age until you are twenty-five."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Henny.
Daisy burst into tears.
"I'll be a beastly old maid by then," she sobbed.
"Well, good-bye, children, good-bye. Your poor mother is gone, and you must make the best of what is to you a bad job. But you have got a delightful step-father, who will do his utmost for you so as to bring you up in the fear of God, and I am sure you cannot help liking his dear children."
"If you mean that I am going to like that beastly little niece, you're fine and mistook, Mr. Lawyer," said Daisy. "I think you are a horrid man, and I believe, I really do, that you forged that will."
"Good-bye, girls, and don't be silly," said Debenham.
He said to himself as he took his seat in his motor-car: "Poor O'Brien, I thought his troubles were ended; but I really do not think I ever saw a more unpleasant pair of girls than the Mostyns. Their mother over again, only worse. Thank goodness, I've saved O'Brien from making a fool of himself. That saintly sort of person often does that kind of thing. That poor, dear, brave little girl, I'm afraid, will have an awful time when the Mostyns go to Templemore. Why, the face of the one they call Daisy is as sly and as full of mischief as a monkey's."