“Is it to be naughty, mother?”
“Yes, Sissie; and that is what you have been to-day. And you must go to bed early. Indeed, you had better say ‘Good-night,’ and go now.”
“But let me say my prayers down here, mother, because I always do, you know.” And without more ado the child knelt down, and, folding her hands together, she said: “Oh, God, please make Sissie a good girl!” and demurely added, “And if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”
Sounds that were not devotional were heard from the other parts of the room, and Mrs. Hancourt lifted the little one in her arms. “I think, darling,” she said, “you had better finish your prayers upstairs.”
When Mrs. Hancourt and the children had left, Arthur told his news. “I have the pleasure to inform you, Mr. Hancourt, that my father proved the respect which he had for you by leaving you a small legacy.”
“A legacy, sir?” exclaimed the man, in amazement. “A legacy for me? Left me by Mr. Knight? Do let me call my wife. Kate, come here! This is news, indeed. Mr. Knight really had not any ill-feeling toward me, after all.”
“Oh! I am very glad,” said Mrs. Hancourt. “Mr. Arthur, my husband, ever since Mr. Knight’s illness, has been wondering if he had not been harsh and wrong.”
“But, Kate, you would never guess the rest. Mr. Knight has left us a legacy.”
“It is nothing to make a fuss about,” said Knight. “It is only a hundred pounds. Here is a cheque for the amount.”
“A hundred pounds?” It was all that Hancourt could say. He changed colour, and struggled for composure.