“I have considered it, Trotwood,” said Agnes, looking to me, “and I feel that it ought not to be, and must not be; even on the recommendation of a friend to whom I am so grateful, and owe so much.”

“I will not say that I recommend it,” observed Traddles. “I think it right to suggest it. No more.”

“I am happy to hear you say so,” answered Agnes, steadily, “for it gives me hope, almost assurance, that we think alike. Dear Mr. Traddles and dear Trotwood, papa once free with honour, what could I wish for! I have always aspired, if I could have released him from the toils in which he was held, to render back some little portion of the love and care I owe him, and to devote my life to him. It has been, for years, the utmost height of my hopes. To take our future on myself will be the next great happiness—the next to his release from all trust and responsibility—that I can know.”

“Have you thought how, Agnes?”

“Often! I am not afraid, dear Trotwood. I am certain of success. So many people know me here, and think kindly of me, that I am certain. Don’t mistrust me. Our wants are not many. If I rent the dear old house, and keep a school, I shall be useful and happy.”

The calm fervour of her cheerful voice brought back so vividly, first the dear old house itself, and then my solitary home, that my heart was too full for speech. Traddles pretended for a little while to be busy looking among the papers.

“Next, Miss Trotwood,” said Traddles, “that property of yours.”

“Well, Sir,” sighed my aunt. “All I have got to say about it is, that if it’s gone, I can bear it; and if it’s not gone, I shall be glad to get it back.”

“It was originally, I think, eight thousand pounds, Consols?” said Traddles.

“Right!” replied my aunt.

“I can’t account for more than five,” said Traddles, with an air of perplexity.

“—Thousand, do you mean?” inquired my aunt, with uncommon composure, “or pounds?”

“Five thousand pounds,” said Traddles.

“It was all there was,” returned my aunt. “I sold three, myself. One, I paid for your articles, Trot, my dear; and the other two I have by me. When I lost the rest, I thought it wise to say nothing about that sum, but to keep it secretly for a rainy day. I wanted to see how you would come out of the trial, Trot; and you came out nobly—persevering, self-reliant, self-denying! So did Dick. Don’t speak to me, for I find my nerves a little shaken!”

Nobody would have thought so, to see her sitting upright, with her arms folded; but she had wonderful self-command.

“Then I am delighted to say,” cried Traddles, beaming with joy, “that we have recovered the whole money!”

“Don’t congratulate me, anybody!” exclaimed my aunt. “How so, Sir?”

“You believed it had been misappropriated by Mr. Wickfield?” said Traddles.

“Of course I did,” said my aunt, “and was therefore easily silenced. Agnes, not a word!”

“And indeed,” said Traddles, “it was sold, by virtue of the power of management he held from you; but I needn’t say by whom sold, or on whose actual signature. It was afterwards pretended to Mr. Wickfield,