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 which my dear mother left to me." Father doubtless
wished to have the matter take a less serious turn, for Rupert's eyes
were all shiny with tears which had not fallen; so after a little
pause he said, with indignation, which I knew was simulated:

"Have you forgotten your mother so soon, Rupert, that you wish to
give away the very last gift which she bestowed on you?" Rupert was
sitting, but he jumped up and stood opposite my father with his fist
clenched. He was quite pale now, and his eyes looked so fierce that
I thought he would do my father an injury. He spoke in a voice which
did not seem like his own, it was so strong and deep.