“No; but wait,” she began, in some confusion and hardly knowing how to go on with her disagreeable task; “he left you a little money, ten thousand dollars, to give you a start in life, he said.”
Earle Wayne startled and flushed deeply.
“Did Mr. Forrester do that?” he asked, greatly moved.
“Yes; and now comes the disagreeable part of it all. I do not like to tell you, but I must,” she said, lifting her crimson, troubled face to him, and he wondered what there was about it that should make her appear so. “Papa did not like it very well,” she went on, dropping her eyes with a feeling of shame. “He thought that it was not right the money should go to a stranger, and—and—oh! Earle, I know it seems selfish and cruel, but he says you cannot have it.”
Editha nearly broke down here; it had required all her courage to tell him this; and now she sat still, covered with shame and confusion. A shade of bitterness passed over the young man’s face at her last words, and then the least smile of scorn curled his fine lips.
He had never experienced very much respect for Sumner Dalton; he knew him to be a man devoid of principle, of small mind, and smaller soul; but he was Editha’s father, and he could speak no word against him. He saw how ashamed and uncomfortable she felt to be obliged to make this humiliating confession regarding her only parent, while he admired the fine sense of honor that would not allow her to shrink from her duty in telling him.
“I am going to tell you just how the matter stands,” she resumed presently: “and then you must excuse papa as best you can. You doubtless have heard that Uncle Richard was paralyzed—he had no use of either his hands or his feet, and was entirely helpless, although his mind was clear until just before his second shock, which came suddenly in the night. He told me the day before that he knew he could not live, and gave me directions just what to do. He said if he could only use his hands, he would have added a codicil to his will in your favor, but as it was, I must attend to his wishes. He said it—the will—had been made many years ago, giving everything to me; but ever since he became interested in you he had intended doing something handsome for you; if he had lived and you wished it, he would have wanted you to go back to him as a partner in his business, as soon as you should be free to do so. But he charged me—made me promise—to make over to you ten thousand dollars as soon as your time expired.
“He left a large fortune, more than I shall ever know what to do with, and I was so glad of this bequest to you,” Editha went on, heartily. “I asked Mr. Felton to see that everything was done properly, so that you could have the money at once. He did so, and I wanted you to have it as a sort of Christmas gift; but, Earle, I am not twenty-one yet; papa is still my natural guardian.”
“Well?” Earle said, encouragingly, as she stopped in distress, and he pitied her for having to make this confession to him, while a tender smile wreathed his lips at her truthfulness and her sorrow on his account.
“So there is no way—you will have to wait a little while for your money. I shall be twenty-one the twentieth of next November, and my own mistress; and, Earle, you shall have it then, with the year’s interest added.”