“Well, mother,” said Frank, laying his hand gently on the widow’s shoulder, “you shan’t darn any more socks if I can help it, for I’m a man of fortune now!”
“How, Frank?” said Mrs Willders, with a puzzled look.
“The fact is, mother, that Mrs Denman, the poor old lady whom I carried down the escape, I forget how many years ago, is dead, and has left me her fortune, which, I believe, amounts to something like twenty thousand pounds!”
“You don’t mean that!” cried Willie, starting up.
“Indeed, I do,” said Frank earnestly.
“Then long life to ye, my boy!” cried Willie, wringing his brother’s hand, “and success to the old—well, no, I don’t exactly mean that, but if she were alive I would say my blessing on the old lady. I wish you joy, old fellow! I say, surely the stately man won’t object to the penniless fireman now—ha! ha! Well, it’s like a dream; but tell us all about it, Frank.”
“There is very little to tell, lad. I got a very urgent message the day before yesterday to go to see an old lady who was very ill. I obtained leave for an hour, and went at once, not knowing who it was till I got there, when I found that it was Mrs Denman. She looked very ill, and I do assure you I felt quite unmanned when I looked into her little old face. ‘Young man,’ she said in a low voice, ‘you saved my life; I am dying, and have sent for you to thank you. God bless you.’ She put out her thin hand and tried to shake mine, but it was too feeble; she could only press her fingers on it. That was all that passed, and I returned to the station feeling quite in low spirits, I do assure you. Well, next day a little man in black called, and said he wished to have a few words with me. So I went out, and he introduced himself as the old lady’s lawyer, told me that she was gone, and that she had, almost with her last breath, made him promise to go, the moment she was dead, and see the fireman who had saved her life, and tell him that she had left her fortune to him. He congratulated me; said that there were no near relations to feel aggrieved or to dispute my rights, and that, as soon as the proper legal steps had been taken—the debts and legacies paid, etcetera,—he would have the pleasure of handing over the balance, which would probably amount to twenty thousand pounds.”
“It’s like a dream,” said Willie.
“So it is,” replied Frank, “but it’s well that it is not a dream, for if I had been the penniless man that Mr Auberly thinks me, I would have been obliged in honour to give up Emma Ward.”
“Give her up!” exclaimed Willie in amazement. “Why?”