ow.

"How can we settle it, if you have nothing to show me to prove that
Marguerite is living?" asked the poor woman.

"Marguerite is living, or was eighteen months ago, when I was in
France."

"Haven't you heard from her for eighteen months?"

"Of course I have; but that is neither here nor there. I don't wish to
be annoyed in this way, or to have your son boasting that he has a
claim on me. I don't choose to submit to that sort of thing any longer.
Neither is it my intention to bring Marguerite home till she is
eighteen years old. She is very much attached to the institution in
which she spent her childhood."

"I should think you would wish to see her oftener than once in two
years," added Mrs. Wittleworth, the remark prompted by her woman's
heart.

"So I would. But you know just how it is. I can't bring her home
without having trouble in my family; and she is perfectly happy where
she is. I ought to have done more for you, Ellen, than I have; but I
didn't know the world went so hard with you. I blame myself for not
thinking more about it; but I am plunged in business, so that I hardly
have time to think of my own family. I don't see how I can do it in any
other way than by settling a fixed sum upon you at once. Then I can do
all that I have to do at one time, and you will not have to depend upon
my bad memory."

"I'm sure I've no claims on you of that kind," replied Mrs.
Wittleworth, amazed at this outburst of generosity.

"I know you have no legal claims upon me; but you are the sister of my
first wife. I have not forgotten her yet, and I never shall," continued
Mr. Checkynshaw, with a gush of sentiment such as the poor woman had
never before seen proceed from him. "Property from your father's estate
came into my family, and it would not be right for me to permit you to
want for the comforts of life, to say nothing of the necessities. I'm
going to do something for you here and now--something so that you shall
not be dependent upon Fitz, whether I forget you for the time or not.
Do you think you could live on the income of ten thousand dollars a
year? That would be six hundred dollars, or about twelve dollars a
week."

"That is more than I have had for years," gasped Mrs. Wittleworth.

"Very well; I will give you a check for that sum; or I will invest it
for you in the best paying stocks I can find."

"You are too good! I did not expect this!" exclaimed the poor woman,
wiping the tears from her eyes.