“This will never do, Walters,” said he, as he re-entered his office; “the fellow has the upper hand of us, and we must humour him; we should suppress our own feelings for the children’s sake.  You are as well aware as I am of the necessity of some compromise—­we are in his power for the present, and must act as circumstances compel us to.”

“I can’t discuss the matter with him,” interrupted Walters, “he’s an unmitigated scoundrel.  I couldn’t command my temper in his presence for five minutes.  If you can arrange anything with him at all advantageous to the children, I shall be satisfied, it will be more than I expect; only bear in mind, that what I have in my hands belonging to Garie we must retain, he knows nothing of that.”

“Very well,” rejoined Mr. Balch, “depend upon it I’ll do my best;” and closing the door, he went back to Mr. Stevens.

“Now, Mr. Stevens,” said he, drawing up a chair, “we will talk over this matter dispassionately, and try and arrive at some amicable arrangement:  be kind enough to inform me what your claims are.”

“Mr. Balch, you are a gentleman,” began Mr. Stevens, “and therefore I’m willing to discuss the matter thoroughly with you.  You’ll find me disposed to do a great deal for these children:  but I wish it distinctly understood at the beginning, that whatever I may give them, I bestow as a favour.  I concede nothing to them as a right, legally they have not the slightest claim upon me; of that you, who are an excellent lawyer, must be well aware.”

“We won’t discuss that point at present, Mr. Stevens.  I believe you intimated you would be kind enough to say upon what evidence you purposed sustaining your claims?”

“Well, to come to the point, then,” said Stevens; “the deceased Mr. Garie was, as I before said, my first cousin.  His father and my mother were brother and sister.  My mother married in opposition to her parents’ desires; they cut her off from the family, and for years there was no communication between them.  At my father’s death, my mother made overtures for a reconciliation, which were contemptuously rejected, at length she died.  I was brought up in ignorance of who my grandparents were; and only a few months since, on the death of my father’s sister, did I make the discovery.  Here,” said he, extending the packet of letters which, the reader will remember once agitated, him so strangely, “here are the letters that passed between my mother and her father.”

Mr. Balch took up one and read:—­

“Savannah, 18—­

“MADAM,—­Permit me to return this letter (wherein you declare yourself the loving and repentant daughter of Bernard Garie) and at the same time inform you, that by your own. acts you have deprived yourself of all claim to that relation.  In opposition to my wishes, and in open defiance of my express commands, you chose to unite your fortune with one in every respect your inferior.  If that union has not resulted as happily as you expected, you must sustain yourself by the reflection that you are the author of your own misfortunes and alone to blame for your present miserable condition.—­Respectfully yours,