Brooke had known that his uncle was a disappointed, or at least a discontented man; but he had never known much of the old man’s circumstances, and certainly had not expected to hear him speak in the strain that he had now used.  He had heard often that his Uncle Barty disliked Miss Stanbury, and had not been surprised at former sharp, biting little words spoken to reference to that lady’s character.  But he had not expected such a tirade of abuse as the banker had now poured out.  ‘Of course I know nothing about the bank,’ said he; ’but I did not suppose that she had had anything to do with it.’

’Where do you think the money came from that she has got?  Did you ever hear that she had anything of her own?  She never had a penny, never a penny.  It came out of this house.  It is the capital on which this business was founded, and on which it ought to be carried on to this day.  My brother had thrown her off; by heavens, yes had thrown her off.  He had found out what she was and had got rid of her.’

‘But he left her his money.’

’Yes she got near him when he was dying, and he did leave her his money —­his money, and my money, and your father’s money.’

‘He could have given her nothing, Uncle Barty, that wasn’t his own.’

’Of course that’s true it’s true in one way.  You might say the same of a man who was cozened into leaving every shilling away from his own children.  I wasn’t in Exeter when the will was made.  We none of us were here.  But she was here; and when we came to see him die, there we found her.  She had had her revenge upon him, and she means to have it on all of us.  I don’t believe she’ll ever leave you a shilling, Brooke.  You’ll find her out yet, and you’ll talk of her to your nephews as I do to you.’

Brooke made some ordinary answer to this, and bade is uncle adieu.  He had allowed himself to entertain a half chivalrous idea that he could produce a reconciliation between Miss Stanbury and his uncle Barty; and since he had been at Exeter he had said a word, first to the one and then to the other, hinting at the subject but his hints had certainly not been successful.  As he walked from the bank into the High Street he could not fail to ask himself whether there were any grounds for the terrible accusations which he had just heard from his uncle’s lips.  Something of the same kind, though in form much less violent, had been repeated to him very often by others of the family.  Though he had as a boy known Miss Stanbury well, he had been taught to regard her as an ogress.  All the Burgesses had regarded Miss Stanbury as an ogress since that unfortunate will had come to light.  But she was an ogress from whom something might be gained and the ogress had still persisted in saying that a Burgess should be her heir.  It had therefore come to pass that Brooke had been brought up half to revere her and half to abhor her.  ‘She is a dreadful woman,’ said his branch of the