Her husband turned and regarded her with much severity, but Mrs. Tidger’s gaze was the stronger, and after a vain attempt to meet it, he handed her the letter.
Mrs. Tidger read it through hastily, and then snatching the baby from her lap, held it out with both arms to her husband, and jumping up, kissed her sister heartily, patting her on the back in her excitement until she coughed with the pain of it.
“You don’t think it’s a take-in, Polly?” she inquired.
“Take-in?” said her sister; “of course it ain’t. Lawyers don’t play jokes; their time’s too valuable. No, you’re an heiress all right, Ann, and I wish you joy. I couldn’t be more pleased if it was myself.”
She kissed her again, and going to pat her back once more, discovered that she had sunk down sufficiently low in her chair to obtain the protection of its back.
“Two thousand pounds,” said Mrs. Pullen, in an awestruck voice.
“Ten hundered pounds twice over,” said the carpenter, mouthing it slowly; “twenty hundered pounds.”
He got up from the table, and instinctively realizing that he could not do full justice to his feelings with the baby in his arms, laid it on the teatray in a puddle of cold tea and stood looking hard at the heiress.
“I was housekeeper to her eleven years ago,” said Mrs. Pullen. “I wonder what she left it to me for?”
“Didn’t know what to do with it, I should think,” said the carpenter, still staring openmouthed.