I could not help seeing
    that the dear old man regarded me in a sort of parental way--I have
    heard of such romantic attachments being transferred to the later
    generation. I was not displeased with it; on the contrary, I liked
    him better for it. I love my mother so much--I always think of her
    in the present--that I cannot think of her as dead. There is a tie
    between anyone else who loved her and myself. I tried to let Mr.
    Trent see that I liked him, and it pleased him so much that I could
    see his liking for me growing greater. Before we parted he told me
    that he was going to give up business. He must have understood how
    disappointed I was--for how could I ever get along at all without
    him?--for he said, as he laid a hand quite affectionately, I
    thought--on my shoulder:

    "I shall have one client, though, whose business I always hope to
    keep, and for whom I shall be always whilst I live glad to act--if he
    will have me." I did not care to speak as I took his hand. He
    squeezed mine, too, and said very earnestly:

    "I served your uncle's interests to the very best of my ability for
    nearly fifty years. He had full confidence in me, and I was proud of
    his trust. I can honestly say, Rupert--you won't mind me using that
    familiarity, will you?--that, though the interests which I guarded
    were so vast that without abusing my trust I could often have used my
    knowledge to my personal advantage, I never once, in little matters
    or big, abused that trust--no, not even rubbed the bloom off it. And
    now that he has remembered me in his Will so generously that I need
    work no more, it will be a very genuine pleasure and pride to me to
    carry out as well as I can the wishes that I partly knew, and now
    realize more fully towards you, his nephew." In the long chat which we had, and which lasted till midnight, he
    told me many very interesting things about Uncle Roger. When, in the
    course of conversation, he mentioned that the fortune Uncle Roger
    left must be well over a hundred millions, I was so surprised that I
    said out loud--I did not mean to ask a question:

    "How on earth could a man beginning with nothing realize such a
    gigantic fortune?" "By all honest ways," he answered, "and his clever human insight. He
    knew one half of the world, and so kept abreast of all public and
    national movements that he knew the critical moment to advance money
    required. He was always generous, and always on the side of freedom. There are nations at this moment only now entering on the
    consolidation of their liberty, who owe all to him, who knew when and
    how to help. No wonder that in some lands they will drink to his
    memory on great occasions as they used to drink his health." "As you and I shall do now, sir!" I said, as I filled my glass and
    stood up. We drank it in bumpers. We did not say a word, either of
    us; but the old gentleman held out his hand, and I took it. And so,
    holding hands, we drank in silence. It made me feel quite choky; and
    I could see that he, too, was moved. _From E. B. Trent's Memoranda_. _January_ 4, 1907. I asked Mr. Rupert Sent Leger to dine with me at my office alone, as
    I wished to have a chat with him. To-morrow Sir Colin and I will
    have a formal meeting with him for the settlement of affairs, but I
    thought it best to have an informal talk with him alone first, as I
    wished to tell him certain matters which will make our meeting
    to-morrow more productive of utility, as he can now have more full
    understanding of the subjects which we have to discuss. Sir Colin is
    all that can be in manhood, and I could wish no better colleague in
    the executorship of this phenomenal Will; but he has not had the
    privilege of a lifelong friendship with the testator as I have had. And as Rupert Sent Leger had to learn intimate details regarding his
    uncle, I could best make my confidences alone. To-morrow we shall
    have plenty of formality. I was delighted with Rupert. He is just
    what I could have wished his mother's boy to be--or a son of my own
    to be, had I had the good-fortune to have been a father. But this is
    not for me. I remember long, long ago reading a passage in Lamb's
    Essays which hangs in my mind: "The children of Alice call Bartrum
    father." Some of my old friends would laugh to see _me_ write this,
    but these memoranda are for my eyes alone, and no one shall see them
    till after my death, unless by my own permission. The boy takes some
    qualities after his father; he has a daring that is disturbing to an
    old dryasdust lawyer like me. But somehow I like him more than I
    ever liked anyone--any man--in my life--more even than his uncle, my
    old friend, Roger Melton; and Lord knows I had much cause to like
    him. I have more than ever now. It was quite delightful to see the
    way the young adventurer was touched by his uncle's thought of him. He is a truly gallant fellow, but venturesome exploits have not
    affected the goodness of heart. It is a pleasure to me to think that
    Roger and Colin came together apropos of the boy's thoughtful
    generosity towards Miss MacKelpie. The old soldier will be a good
    friend to him, or I am much mistaken. With an old lawyer like me,
    and an old soldier like him, and a real old gentlewoman like Miss
    MacKelpie, who loves the very ground he walks on, to look after him,
    together with all his own fine qualities and his marvellous
    experience of the world, and the gigantic wealth that will surely be
    his, that young man will go far. _Letter from Rupert Sent Leger to Miss Janet MacKelpie_, _Croom_. _January_ 5, 1907. MY DEAREST AUNT JANET,

    It is all over--the first stage of it; and that is as far as I can
    get at present. I shall have to wait for a few days--or it may be
    weeks--in London for the doing of certain things now necessitated by
    my acceptance of Uncle Roger's bequest. But as soon as I can, dear,
    I shall come down to Croom and spend with you as many days as
    possible. I shall then tell you all I am at liberty to tell, and I
    shall thank you personally for your consent to come with me to
    Vissarion. Oh, how I wish my dear mother had lived to be with us! It would have made her happy, I know, to have come; and then we three
    who shared together the old dear, hard days would have shared in the
    same way the new splendour. I would try to show all my love and
    gratitude to you both . . . You must take the whole burden of it now,
    dear, for you and I are alone. No, not alone, as we used to be, for
    I have now two old friends who are already dear to me. One is so to
    you already. Sir Colin is simply splendid, and so, in his own way,
    is Mr. Trent. I am lucky, Aunt Janet, to have two such men to think
    of affairs for me. Am I not?