ean appearance. He
was all dusty and dishevelled. When my father saw him--I came into the
study with him--he said in a horrified voice:

"Good God!" He was further shocked when the boy brusquely acknowledged,
in reply to my father's greeting, that he had travelled third class. Of
course, none of my family ever go anything but first class; even the
servants go second. My father was really angry when he said he had
walked up from the station.

"A nice spectacle for my tenants and my tradesmen! To see my--my--a
kinsman of my house, howsoever remote, trudging like a tramp on the road
to my estate! Why, my avenue is two miles and a perch! No wonder you
are filthy and insolent!" Rupert--really, I cannot call him cousin
here--was exceedingly impertinent to my father.

"I walked, sir, because I had no money; but I assure you I did not mean
to be insolent. I simply came here because I wished to ask your advice
and assistance, not because you are an important person, and have a long
avenue--as I know to my cost--but simply because you are one of my
trustees."

"_Your_ trustees, sirrah!" said my father, interrupting him. "Your
trustees?"

"I beg your pardon, sir," he said, quite quietly. "I meant the trustees
of my dear mother's will."

"And what, may I ask you," said father, "do you want in the way of advice
from one of the trustees of your dear mother's will?" Rupert got very
red, and was going to say something rude--I knew it from his look--but he
stopped, and said in the same gentle way:

"I want your advice, sir, as to the best way of doing something which I
wish to do, and, as I am under age, cannot do myself. It must be done
through the trustees of my mother's will."

"And the assistance for which you wish?" said father, putting his hand in
his pocket. I know what that action means when I am talking to him.

"The assistance I want," said Rupert, getting redder than ever, "is from
my--the trustee also. To carry out what I want to do."

"And what may that be?" asked my father. "I would like, sir, to make
over to my Aunt Janet--" My father interrupted him by asking--he had
evidently remembered my jest:

"Miss MacSkelpie?" Rupert got still redder, and I turned away; I didn't
quite wish that he should see me laughing. He went on quietly:

"_MacKelpie_, sir! Miss Janet MacKelpie, my aunt, who has always been so
kind to me, and whom my mother loved--I want to have made over to her the
money whic