“You cannot,” said Jane; “it is quite in keeping with all my uncle’s ideas—­quite consistent with all he has told us over and over again.  He had many strange notions, but he was generally in the right, and it may prove to be so now.”  The sigh that accompanied these words told how faint her hopes were.

“It has been positive unkindness to bring you up as he did, and now to throw you upon the world.  My beginning was different.  How could he expect the same success for you—­women, too?”

“And are women so inferior, then?  It was my uncle’s cherished belief that they were not.  He said he never saw a woman take up man’s work without succeeding in it.  I must try to show that I will be no exception.  He was not unkind to take us on our mother’s death from a careless and unprincipled father, to bring us into a quiet and happy home, to educate us to the best of his judgment, to be always kind, always reasonable.  Ah, no, my dear uncle, though this seems very hard, it was not meant for unkindness!”

“It is cruel, cruel,” said Alice.  “He must have been mad.  What will become of us?  What will become of us?”

At this burst of despair from Alice, Jane’s courage gave way, and the heavy tears rolled down her cheeks.  “Elsie, darling, at the worst we can only die, and we are not afraid of death.  But no, we shall live to conquer all this yet.”

“You cannot as yet lay any plan,” said Mr. Macfarlane.  “Mr. Ormistown—­Mr. Hogarth, I should say—­is in no hurry to take possession.  You can have a month to look about you, and there is no saying what may turn up in a month.”

“Certainly,” said the new cousin; “I am sure I should be most happy to give the young ladies accommodation in this large house for as long as they please, if that is not forbidden by the will.”

“A permanent residence is clearly forbidden; for no assistance, beyond the small money payment specified, Can be offered or accepted; but I think a month to remain and to collect all their wardrobe and personal property may be permitted.”

“I ought to return to the bank, and work till they find a substitute, and will leave my cousins the undisturbed possession of Cross Hall for a month.  In the meantime, I feel as if my presence must be a painful intrusion.  I must leave you.”

“Perhaps,” said Jane, “though you cannot give us money, you may be able to give us advice.  You are going to Edinburgh; you may see or hear of something we could do.”

“I should be most happy to do so.  What line of life should you like to enter on?”

“Anything we could make a living by.”

“Then I suppose a governess’s situation?”

“I might teach boys, but I have not learned what would qualify me to instruct girls.  But I do thoroughly understand bookkeeping, write a good hand, have gone through Euclid, and know as much of the classics as nine out of ten young men in my rank of life.  But my uncle cared very little for the classics.  I know a good deal of chemistry and mineralogy, but uncle was most pleased with my bookkeeping.  How did you get on when you began to work for yourself?”