'Surely I have
heard that name before.'
There was no violence in his manner, nothing but imbecility: so Lord
Hartfield made up his mind that Mary was right, and that the old man was
quite harmless, worthy of all compassion and kindly treatment.
This was the same old man whom he had met on the Fell in the bleak March
morning. There was no doubt in his mind about that, although he could
hardly see the man's face in the shadowy corridor.
'Come,' said the man, 'come with me, my dear. You forgot me, but I have
not forgotten you. I mean to leave you my fortune. Come with me, and
I'll show you your legacy. It is all for you--every rupee--every jewel.'
This word rupee startled Lord Hartfield. It had a strange sound from the
lips of a Westmoreland peasant.
'Come, child, come!' said the man impatiently. 'Come and see what I have
left you in my will. I make a new will every day, but I leave everything
to you--every will is in your favour; But if you are married you had
better have your legacy at once. Your husband is strong enough to take
care of you and your fortune.
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