“Colin and Hope, I hae something I ought to tell you.  When your sister Helen died she asked me to gie her share o’ the estate to the poor children of our Father.  I had intended giving Helen L100,000.  It is a big sum, and I hae been in a sair strait about it.  What say you, Colin?”

“My dear father, I say there is only one way out of that strait.  The money must be given as Helen wished it.  Helen was a noble girl.  It was just like her.”

“Ah, Colin, if you could only tell what a burden this bit o’ paper has been to me!  I left the great weight at the foot o’ the cross this morning.”  As he spoke the paper dropped from his fingers and fell upon the table.  Colin lifted it reverently and kissed it.  “Father,” he said, “may I keep it now?  The day will come when the Crawfords will think with more pride of it than of any parchment they possess.”

Then there was an appeal to Tallisker about its disposal.  “Laird,” he answered, “such a sum must be handled wi’ great care.  It is not enough to gie money, it must be gien wisely.”  But he promised to take on himself the labor of inquiry into different charities, and the consideration of what places and objects needed help most.  “But, Crawford,” he said, “if you hae any special desire, I think it should be regarded.”

Then Crawford said he had indeed one.  When he was himself young he had desired greatly to enter the ministry, but his father had laid upon him a duty to the family and estate which he had accepted instead.

“Now, dominie,” he said, “canna I keep aye a young man in my place?”

“It is a worthy thought, Crawford.”

So the first portion of Helen’s bequest went to Aberdeen University.  This endowment has sent out in Crawford’s place many a noble young man into the harvest-field of the world, and who shall say for how many centuries it will keep his name green in earth and heaven!  The distribution of the rest does not concern our story.  It may safely be left in Dominie Tallisker’s hands.

Of course, in some measure it altered Crawford’s plans.  The new house was abandoned and a wing built to the Keep for Colin’s special use.  In this portion the young man indulged freely his poetic, artistic tastes.  And the laird got to like it.  He used to tread softly as soon as his feet entered the large shaded rooms, full of skilful lights and white gleaming statues.  He got to enjoy the hot, scented atmosphere and rare blossoms of the conservatory, and it became a daily delight to him to sit an hour in Colin’s studio and watch the progress of some favorite picture.