“Mrs. Paterson said she had told you,” Ingram said with a shrug.  “You never expected to find me rich, did you?”

“Never,” said Mackenzie frankly.  “But it is a ferry good thing—­oh yes, it is a ferry good thing—­to hef money and be independent of people.  And you will make a good use of it, I know.”

“You don’t seem disposed, sir, to regret that Lavender has been robbed of what should have belonged to him?”

“Oh, not at all,” said Mackenzie, gravely and cautiously, for he did not want his plans to be displayed prematurely.  “But I hef no quarrel with him; so you will not think I am glad to hef the money taken away for that.  Oh no:  I hef seen a great many men and women, and it was no strange thing that these two young ones, living all by themselves in London, should hef a quarrel.  But it will come all right again if we do not make too much about it.  If they like one another, they will soon come together again, tek my word for it, Mr. Ingram; and I hef seen a great many men and women.  And as for the money—­well, as for the money, I hef plenty for my Sheila, and she will not starve when I die—­no, nor before that, either; and as for the poor old woman that has died, I am ferry glad she left her money to one that will make a good use of it, and will not throw it away whatever.”

“Oh, but you know, Mr. Mackenzie, you are congratulating me without cause.  I must tell you how the matter stands.  The money does not belong to me at all:  Mrs. Lavender never intended it should.  It was meant to go to Sheila—­”

“Oh, I know, I know,” said Mr. Mackenzie with a wave of his hand.  “I wass hearing all that from the woman at the house.  But how will you know what Mrs. Lavender intended?  You hef only that woman’s story of it.  And here is the will, and you hef the money, and—­and—­” Mackenzie hesitated for a moment, and then said with a sudden vehemence, “—­and, by Kott, you shall keep it!”

Ingram was a trifle startled.  “But look here, sir,” he said in a tone of expostulation, “you make a mistake.  I myself know Mrs. Lavender’s intentions.  I don’t go by any story of Mrs. Paterson’s.  Mrs. Lavender made over the money to me with express injunctions to place it at the disposal of Sheila whenever I should see fit.  Oh, there’s no mistake about it, so you need not protest, sir.  If the money belonged to me, I should be delighted to keep it.  No man in the country more desires to be rich than I; so don’t fancy I am flinging away a fortune out of generosity.  If any rich and kind-hearted old lady will send me five thousand or ten thousand pounds, you will see how I shall stick to it.  But the simple truth is, this money is not mine at all.  It was never intended to be mine.  It belongs to Sheila.”

Ingram talked in a very matter-of-fact way:  the old man feared what he said was true.

“Ay, it is a ferry good story,” said Mackenzie cautiously, “and maybe it is all true.  And you wass saying you would like to hef money?”