"It's not as if Rane had no expectations whatever. Two hundred a-year must come to him at his mother's death. And--Dick--have you any idea how Mrs. Gass's will is left?"
"Not the least, sir."
"Oliver Rane is the nearest living relative to her late husband, Mrs. Cumberland excepted. He is Thomas Gass's own nephew--and all the money was his. It seems to me, Dick, that Mrs. Gass is sure to remember him: perhaps largely."
"She may do so."
"Yes; and I think will do so. Bessy shall go to him; and be emancipated from her thraldom here."
"Oliver Rane has no furniture in his house."
"He has some. The dining-room and his bedroom are as handsomely furnished as need be. We can send in a little more. There are some things at the Hall that were Bessy's own mother's, and she shall have them. They have not been thought much of here, Dick, amidst the grand things that madam has filled the house with."
"She'll make a fuss, though, at their being removed," remarked Dick.
"Let her," retorted Mr. North, who could be brave as the best when two or three hundred miles lay between him and madam. "Those things were your own dear mother's, Dick; she bought them with her own money before she married me, and I have always regarded them as heir-looms for Bessy. It's just a few plain solid mahogany things, as good as ever they were. It was our drawing-room furniture in the early days, and it will do for their drawing-room now. When Rane is making his six or seven hundred a-year, they can buy finer if they choose. We thought great things of it; I know that."
Richard smiled. "I remember once when I was a very little fellow, my mother came in and caught me drawing a horse on the centre-table with pen-and-ink. The trouble she had to get the horse out!--and the whipping I had!"