me and a pride and a pleasure. I have no other claim upon my means; at least’ — here to my surprise she hesitated, and was confused — ‘no, I have no other claim upon my means — and you are my adopted child. Only be a loving child to me in my age, and bear with my whims and fancies; and you will do more for an old woman whose prime of life was not so happy or conciliating as it might have been, than ever that old woman did for you.’

It was the first time I had heard my aunt refer to her past history.

There was a magnanimity in her quiet way of doing so, and of dismissing it, which would have exalted her in my respect and affection, if anything could.

‘All is agreed and understood between us, now, Trot,’ said my aunt,