CHAPTER XXXIV.

TRUSTEES.

"Madam," said the stranger, "you will pardon my intruding on you, but I

saw it in your face. You are interested in that will you have just

read."

"Yes," answered Charlotte simply.

At another time she would have given an indignant retort to what she

would have considered a liberty. Now she turned her eyes with a mute

appeal in them to this stranger, for she recognized kindness in his

tones.

"It was my grandfather's will," she said, responding yet farther to the

full, kind gaze he gave her back.

"Ah! then that sets me right," said Sandy Wilson, for it was he. "That

sets me right, young lady. Now I saw you got a considerable bit of a

shock just then. You ain't, you'll forgive me for saying so, but you

ain't quite fit to meet any of your people for a bit; you may want them

not to guess, but any one with half an eye can see you're not the young

lady you were even when I entered that reading-room not half an hour

back. I'm a rough, plain man, but I'm very much interested in that will

too, and I'd like to have a little bit of a talk with you about it, if

you'll allow me. Suppose, miss, that you and I just take a turn round

the square for a few moments."

Charlotte's answer to this was to turn her face again towards the

particular building where she had read the will, and her companion,

turning with her, began to talk eagerly.

"You see, miss, it was quite a little bit of luck brought you and me

together to-day. The gentleman who made that will was your grandfather;

your name is----"

"Harman," answered Charlotte.

"Ah! yes, I see; and I--I am Alexander Wilson. I don't suppose you ever

saw me before; but I, too, am much interested in that will. I have been

abroad, and--and--supposed to be dead almost ever since that will was

made. But I was not dead, I was in Australia; I came home a week ago,

and found out my one living relation, my niece, my sister's child. She

is married and is a Mrs. Home now, but she is the Charlotte named in Mr.

Harman's will, the Charlotte to whom, and to her mother before her, Mr.

Harman left L1,200 a year."

"Yes," said Charlotte Harman. She found difficulty in dragging this one

word from her lips.

"Madam, I find my niece very poor; very, very poor. I go and look at her

father's will. I see there that she is entitled to wealth, to what she

would consider riches. I find also that this money is left for her

benefit in the hands of trustees; two of the trustees are called Harman,

the other, madam, is--is I--myself; I--Alexander Wilson, am the other

trustee, supposed to be dead. I could not hitherto act, but I can act

now. I can get that wronged woman back her own. Yes, a monstrous piece

of injustice has been done. It was full time for Sandy Wilson to come

home. Now the first thing I must do is to find the other trustees; I

must find the Harmans, wherever they are, for these Harmans have robbed

my niece."

"I can give you their addresses," answered Charlotte, suddenly pausing

in her walk and turning and facing her companion. "John Harman, the

other trustee, who, as you say, has robbed Mrs. Home, is my father. I am

his only child. His address is Prince's Gate, Kensington."

"Good heavens!" said Wilson, shocked and frightened by her manner; "I

never guessed that you were his child--and yet you betray him."

"I am his only child. When do you wish to see him?"

To this question Wilson made no answer for a few moments. Though a just

man, he was a kind one. He could read human nature with tolerable

accuracy. It was despair, not want of feeling, which put those hard

tones into that young voice. He would not, he could not, take advantage

of its bewilderment.

"Miss Harman," he said after a pause, "you will pardon me, but I don't

think you quite know what you are saying; you have got a considerable

bit of a shock; you were not prepared for this baseness--this baseness

on your father's part."

Here her eyes, turned with a sudden swift flash of agony upon him, said

as plainly as eyes could speak--

"Need you ask?"

"No, you could not have guessed it," continued Sandy, replying to this

mute, though beautiful appeal, almost with tears. "You are Mr. Harman's

only child. Now I daresay you are a good bit of an idol with him. I know

how I'd worship a fine lassie like you if I had her. Well, well, miss: I

don't want to pain you, but when young things come all on a heap on a

great wrong like you have done to-day, they're apt, whatever their

former love, to be a bit, just a bit, too hard. They do things, in their

first agony, that they are sorry enough for by and by. Now, miss, what I

want to say is this, that I won't take down your father's address to-day

nor listen indeed to anything you may tell me about him. I want you to

sleep it over, miss. Of course something must be done, but if you will

sleep it over, and I, Sandy Wilson sleep it over too, we'll come

together over the business with our heads a deal clearer than we could

when we both felt scared, so to speak, as we doubtless do just at

present. I won't move hand or foot in the matter until I see you again,

Miss Harman, When do you think you will be able to see me again?"

"Will this hour to-morrow do?"

"Yes; I shall be quite at your service. And as we may want to look at

that will again, suppose we meet just here, miss?"

"I will be here at this hour to-morrow," said Charlotte, and as she

spoke she pulled out her watch to mark the exact time. "It is a quarter

past four now," she said; "I will meet you here at this hour to-morrow,

at a quarter past four."

"Very well, young lady, and may God help you! If I might express a wish

for you, it is that you may have a good hard cry between now and then.

When I was told, and quite sudden like too, that my little sister, Daisy

Wilson, was dead nothing took off the pressure from my heart and brain

like a good hearty cry. So I wish you the same. They say women need it

more than men."

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