Part 15 (1/2)

”Miss Bethia, I don't know what to say to you,” said Mrs Inglis.

”Well, don't say anything, then. It seems to me you owe it to your husband's memory to keep the books together. For my part, I don't see how you can think of refusing my offer, as you can't take them with you.”

”To care for the books--yes--”

”See here, David!” said Miss Bethia, ”what do you say about it? You are a boy of sense. Tell your ma there's no good being so contrary--I mean--I don't know what I mean, exactly,” added she. ”I shall have to think it over a spell.”

David turned his eyes toward his mother in wonder--in utter perplexity, but said nothing.

”There! I'll have to tell it after all; and I hope it won't just spoil my pleasure in it; but I shouldn't wonder. The money ain't mine--hasn't been for quite a spell. I set it apart to pay David's expenses at college; so it's his, or yours till he's of age, if you're a mind to claim it. Your husband knew all about it.”

”My husband!” repeated Mrs Inglis.

”Yes; and now I shouldn't wonder if I had spoiled it to you, too. I told him I was going to give it for that. As like as not he didn't believe me,” said Miss Bethia, with a sob. ”I've had my feelings considerably hurt, one way and another, this afternoon. There wouldn't any of you have been so surprised if any one else had wanted to do you a kindness--if you will have that it's a kindness. I know some folks have got to think I'm stingy and mean, because--”

”Aunt Bethia,” said David, taking her hand in both his, ”that is not what we think here.”

”No, indeed! We have never thought that,” said Violet, kissing her.

Then David kissed her, too, reddening a little, as boys will who only kiss their mothers when they go to bed, or their very little sisters.

”Miss Bethia,” said Mrs Inglis, ”my husband always looked upon you as a true friend. I do not doubt but that your kindness in this matter comforted him at the last.”

”Well, then, it's settled--no more need be said. If I were to die to-night, it would be found in my will all straight. And you wouldn't refuse to take it if I were dead, would you? Why should you now? unless you grudge me the pleasure of seeing it. Oh! I've got enough more to keep me--if that's what you mean--if I should live for forty years, which ain't likely.”

So what could Mrs Inglis do but press her hand, murmuring thanks in the name of her children and her husband.

Miss Bethia's spirits rose.

”And you'll have to be a good boy, David, and adorn the doctrine of your Saviour, so as to fill your father's place.”

”Miss Bethia, I can never do that. I am not good at all.”

”Well, I don't suppose you are. But grace abounds, and you can have it for the asking.”

”But, Miss Bethia, if you mean this because--you expect me to be a minister, like papa, I am not sure, and you may be disappointed--and then--”

”There ain't much one _can_ be sure of in this world,” said Miss Bethia, with a sigh. ”But I can wait. You are young--there's time enough. If the Lord wants you for His service, He'll have you, and no mistake.

There's the money, at any rate. Your mother will want you for the next five years, and you'll see your way clearer by that time, I expect.”

”And do you mean that the money is to be mine--for the university-- whether I am to be a minister or not? I want to understand, Miss Bethia.”

”Well, it was with the view of your being a minister, like your father, that I first thought of it, I don't deny,” said Miss Bethia, gravely.

”But it's yours any way, as soon as your mother thinks best to let you have it. If the Lord don't want you for his minister, I'm very sure _I_ don't. If He wants you, He'll have you; and that's as good a way to leave it as any.”

There was nothing more to be said, and Miss Bethia had her way after all. And a very good way it was.

”And we'll just tell the neighbours that I am to take care of the books till you know where you are to put them--folks take notice of everything so. That'll be enough to say. And, David, you must make out a list of them,--two, indeed,--one to leave with me and one to take, and I'll see to all the rest.”

And so it was settled. The book-case and the books were never moved.

They stand in the study still, and are likely to do so for a good while to come.