“Gracious!  You must be relieved.  I could have told you better than that.”

“I didn’t really think it; I only wondered,” said Rosalind.

Miss Betty laughed in a reminiscent sort of way.  “Do you remember him, Allan?  But no, I fancy you were too little.  He used to visit at our house when I was a child, and I was never so afraid of any one.  I suppose you have heard the story of his wedding?”

“I have a dim recollection of the story.  Tell it to Rosalind.”

“Well,” she began, “Uncle Allan was a minister, you know.  A Presbyterian of the sternest stuff, rich in eloquence and power of argument, but poor in this world’s goods.  However, he judiciously fell in love with Matilda Greene, the only daughter of a wealthy Baltimore merchant.  As was natural, Matilda chose for her wedding-gown a gorgeous robe of white satin, and all the preparations for the event were on a lavish scale.  When the day came and the guests had assembled, and the bride in her beautiful gown and lace veil appeared before the eyes of the bridegroom, Uncle Allan created a sensation by sternly declaring that such a dress was inappropriate for the bride of a humble minister of the Gospel.

“And the meek Matilda, instead of telling him he could marry her as she was or not at all, took off her satin, put on a simple muslin, and the ceremony was performed.  Uncle Allan always referred to his wife as ’My Matilda’; and if the truth were known, I fancy she couldn’t call her soul her own.”

“I remember the story,” said Allan, laughing.  “We come of a stubborn family.  What would have happened if Matilda had asserted herself?”

“He had her at a disadvantage,—­the guests waiting,—­but she missed the chance of a lifetime,” said Miss Betty.

“Was Matilda fond of him?” asked Rosalind.

“Let us hope so; at any rate she always spoke of him as ‘My Allan.’”

CHAPTER EIGHTEENTH.

An imprisoned maiden.

    “The house doth keep itself,
     There’s none within.”

It was plain to Rosalind that for some reason her uncle did not wish to discuss the ring; nor did he seem to care whether or not it was found.  It was also plain that he did not agree with his mother and sister on the question of the will.

On one occasion when Genevieve made some scornful reference to the probable motives of those who upheld the later one, Allan exclaimed in a tone of irritation, “It is beyond my comprehension how you can have so much feeling in the matter.  I have seen no reason to suppose the old man incapable of making a will.  The testimony seemed to point the other way; and as nobody except the hospital had anything to gain by this last win, it strikes me as worse than absurd to impute motives of jealousy to people who were only giving their honest opinion.”

“It must be because we are not blest with your truly amiable disposition,” Genevieve observed languidly.