r the extent of her alleged claim. You see, my dear sir,
I have seen so much of this sort of thing, and the misery involved in
it, that I may be forgiven if I am cautious."

This was putting the whole affair in a new light. Until this moment
Valentine had fancied that, the chain of evidence once established,
Charlotte's claim had only to be asserted in order to place her in
immediate possession of the Haygarth estate. But Mr. Sheldon's cool and
matter-of-fact discussion of the subject implied all manner of doubt
and difficulty, and the Haygarthian thousands seemed carried away to
the most remote and shadowy regions of Chanceryland, as by the waves of
some legal ocean.

"And you really think it would be better not to tell Charlotte?"

"I am sure of it. If you wish to preserve her from all manner of worry
and annoyance, you will take care to keep her in the dark until the
affair is settled--supposing it ever should be settled. I have known
such an affair to outlast the person interested."

"You take a very despondent view of the matter."

"I take a practical view of it. My brother George is a monomaniac on
the next-of-kin subject."

"I cannot quite reconcile myself to the idea of concealing the truth
from Charlotte."

"That is because you do not know the world as well as I do," answered
Mr. Sheldon, coolly.

"I cannot imagine that the idea of this claim would have any disturbing
influence upon her," Valentine argued, thoughtfully. "She is the last
person in the world to care about money."

"Perhaps so. But there is a kind of intoxication in the idea of a large
fortune--an intoxication that no woman of Charlotte's age could stand
against. Tell her that she has a claim to considerable wealth, and from
that moment she will count upon the possession of that wealth, and
shape all her plans for the future upon that basis. 'When I get my
fortune, I will do this, that, and the other.' _That_ is what she will
be continually saying to herself; and by-and-by, when the affair
results in failure, as it very likely will, there will remain a sense
of disappointment which will last for a lifetime, and go far to
embitter all the ordinary pleasures of her existence."

"I am inclined to think you are right," said Valentine, after some
little deliberation. "My darling girl is perfectly happy as it is. It
may be wisest to tell her nothing."

"I am quite sure of that," replied Mr. Sheldon. "Of course her being
enlightened or not