"My dear young lady, I knew you would be distressed at the first blush of the thing. I was surprised when he gave me the directions; but he would have it so. He had a notion, I fancy, that it might serve to take you abroad a bit out of this place: he did not like your being here."
"I know he did not. I strove to convince him I was happy when he came over here in the summer; but he could not think it."
"Just so. His money is well and safely invested, and will bring you in about three hundred and fifty pounds a year. There's some silver, too, and other knicknacks. It is all yours."
"What a good, kind, faithful man he was!" she said, her eyes streaming. "Good always, in every relation of life. He has gone to his reward."
"Ay, ay," nodded Mr. Knivett. "Hill was better than some of his neighbours, and that's a fact."
"But I can never act," she exclaimed. "I should not know what to do or how to do it."
"My dear Miss Mary, you need not trouble yourself on that score. Give me power, and I will make it all as easy for you as an old shoe. In fact, I will act instead of you. Not for gain," he added impressively: "I must do this little matter for you for friendship's sake. Nay, my dear, you must meet this as it is meant: remember my long friendship with your father."
"You are very kind," she faltered.
"Have you a pen and ink at hand?"
She brought one, and he caused her to assign to him the necessary power. Then he asked her wishes as to temporary matters and they consulted for a few minutes together: but she was glad to leave all to Mr. Knivett that she could leave.