Thus Dr. Hermann found himself face to face with the very last members of the family he desired to meet, and had to make the best of the situation.  Of secrets of the late Joseph Brownlow he said nothing, but based his application on the offer of a practice and lectureship he said he had received from New Orleans.  He had evidently never credited that Mrs. Brownlow meant to resign the whole property without giving away among her children the accumulation of ready money in hand, and as he knew himself to be worth buying off, he reckoned upon Janet’s full share.  He had taken Mrs. Brownlow’s own statements as polite refusals, and a lady’s romance until he found the uncle and nephew viewing the resignation of the whole as common honesty, and that she was actually gone.  They would not give him her address, and prevented his coming in contact with the housekeeper, so that no more molestation might be possible, and meantime they offered him terms such as they thought she would ratify.

All that Joseph Brownlow had left was entirely in her power, and the amount was such that if she had died intestate, each of her six children would have been entitled to about £l600, exclusive of the house in London.  Janet had no right to claim anything now or at her mother’s death, but the uncle and nephew knew that Mrs. Brownlow would not endure to leave her destitute, and they thought the deportation to America worth a considerable sacrifice.  Therefore they proposed that on the actual bona fide departure, £500 should be paid down, the interest of the £1100 should be secured to her, and paid half-yearly through Mr. Wakefield, who was to draw up the agreement; but the final disposal of the sum was not to be promised, but to depend on Mrs. Brownlow’s will.

Such a present boon as £500 had made Hermann willing to agree to anything.  Bobus had seen the lawyer in London, and with him concocted the agreement for signature, making the payments pass through the Wakefield office, the receipts being signed by Janet Hermann herself.

“Why must all payments go through the office?” asked Caroline.

“Because there’s no trusting that slippery Greek,” said Bobus.

“I should have liked my poor Janet to have been forced to communicate with me every half-year,” she sighed.

“What, when she has never chosen to write all this time?”

“Yes.  It is very weak, but I can’t help it.  It would be something only to see her name.  I have never known where to write to her, or I would have done so.”

“O, very well,” said Bobus, “you had better invite them both to share the menage in Collingwood Street.”

“For shame, Bobus,” said Jock.  “You have no right to say such things.”

“Only that all this might as well have been left undone if my mother is to rush on them to ask their pardon and beg them to receive her with open arms.  I mean, mother,” he added with a different manner, “if you give one inch to that Greek, he will make it a mile, and as to Janet, if she can’t bring down her pride to write to you like a daughter, I wouldn’t give a rap for her receipt, and it might lead to intolerable pestering.  Now you know she can’t starve on £50 a year besides her medical education.  Wakefield will always know where she is, and you may be quite easy about her.”