"Poor Jean, buried under bullion."
"You're all looking at me differently already," cried poor Jean. "Mhor, it's just the same me. Money can't make any real difference. Don't stare at me like that."
"Will Peter have a diamond collar now?" Mhor asked.
"Awful effect of sudden riches," said Pamela.
"Bear up, Jean—I've no doubt you'll be able to get rid of your money. Just think of all the people you will be able to help. You needn't spend it on yourself you know."
"No, but suppose it's the ruin of the boys! I've often heard of sudden fortunes making people go all wrong."
"Now, Jean, does Jock look as if anything so small as a fortune could put him wrong? And David—by the way, where is David?"
"Out," said Jock, "getting something at the stationer's. Let me tell him when he comes in."
"Then I'll tell Mrs. M'Cosh," cried Mhor, and, followed by Peter, he rushed from the room.
The colour was beginning to come back to Jean's face, and the stunned look to go out of her eyes.