The formal meeting of Sir Colin and myself with Rupert Sent Leger
went off quite satisfactorily. From what he had said yesterday, and
again last night, I had almost come to expect an unreserved
acceptance of everything stated or implied in Roger Melton's Will;
but when we had sat round the table--this appeared, by the way, to be
a formality for which we were all prepared, for we sat down as if by
instinct--the very first words he said were:

"As I suppose I must go through this formality, I may as well say at
once that I accept every possible condition which was in the mind of
Uncle Roger; and to this end I am prepared to sign, seal, and
deliver--or whatever is the ritual--whatever document you, sir"--
turning to me--"may think necessary or advisable, and of which you
both approve." He stood up and walked about the room for a few
moments, Sir Colin and I sitting quite still, silent. He came back
to his seat, and after a few seconds of nervousness--a rare thing
with him, I fancy--said: "I hope you both understand--of course, I
know you do; I only speak because this is an occasion for formality--
that I am willing to accept, and at once! I do so, believe me, not
to get possession of this vast fortune, but because of him who has
given it. The man who was fond of me, and who trusted me, and yet
had strength to keep his own feelings in check--who followed me in
spirit to far lands and desperate adventures, and who, though he
might be across the world from me, was ready to put out a hand to
save or help me, was no common man; and his care of my mother's son
meant no common love for my dear mother. And so she and I together
accept his trust, come of it what may. I have been thinking it over
all night, and all the time I could not get out of the idea that
mother was somewhere near me. The only thought that could debar me
from doing as I wished to do--and intend to do--would be that she