I cannot bear injustice, and I do not believe it ever
prospers in the long run. Were your father to bequeath--my dear, I beg
of you to listen to me!--to bequeath his estates to little Walter, to
the exclusion of the true heir, rely upon it the bequest would _never
bring him good_. In some way or other it would not serve him. Money
diverted by injustice from its natural and just channel does not carry a
blessing with it. I have noted this over and over again in going through
life."
"Anything more?" she contemptuously asked.
"And Walter will not need it," he continued persuasively, passing her
question as unheard. "As my son, he will be amply provided for."
A very commonplace interruption occurred, and the subject was dropped.
Nothing more than a servant bringing in a letter for his master, just
come by hand.
"Why, it is from old Richard Pratt!" exclaimed Mr. Hamlyn, as he turned
to the light.
"I thought Major Pratt never wrote letters," she remarked. "I once heard
you say he must have forgotten how to write."
He did not answer. He was reading the note, which appeared to be a short
one.
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