“Richard Forrester’s, of course,” he said, with some uneasiness.
“Yes; and before it became mine he reserved this ten thousand to be given to Earle. Surely he had a right to do with his own as he would.”
“Very true; but you forget—his will was made years ago, giving you everything.”
“He did not know Earle then; but he said if he could only have the use of his hands, he would have added a codicil to his will in his favor.”
“But he did not do it. The will stands just as it always has, and he can claim nothing. No part of your fortune is legally his.”
“He told me it was his wish, and I shall give Earle the money,” Editha answered, firmly.
“You will not,” asserted Mr. Dalton, positively.
“Papa, do you know how much I am worth in all?”
“A hundred and seventy-five thousand strong—a handsome fortune, a very handsome fortune for a young girl like you to possess,” he said, rubbing his hands together with an air of satisfaction, as if he expected to reap no little benefit from the said fortune himself.
“That is more than Uncle Richard thought, owing, no doubt, to the successful sale of that block I did not wish to keep and Mr. Felton advised me to sell. Uncle Richard told me there would be more than a hundred and fifty thousand; but you see I have nearly twenty-five thousand more than he expected; and, even after giving Earle what he wished, I shall have more than he thought.”