It stood on the small table that
supported the waxlights, with a handsome cut bottle of eau-de-cologne, his
gold and jewelled pencil-case, and his chased repeater, chain, and seals,
beside it. There certainly were no indications of poverty in Uncle Silas's
room; and he said impressively--
'Remember that book; in it your father placed his trust, in it he found his
reward, in it lives my only hope; consult it, my beloved niece, day and
night, as the oracle of life.'
Then he laid his thin hand on my head, and blessed me, and then kissed my
forehead.
'No--a!' exclaimed Cousin Milly's lusty voice. I had quite forgotten her
presence, and looked at her with a little start. She was seated on a very
high old-fashioned chair; she had palpably been asleep; her round eyes were
blinking and staring glassily at us; and her white legs and navvy boots
were dangling in the air.
'Have you anything to remark about Noah?' enquired her father, with a
polite inclination and an ironical interest.
'No--a,' she repeated in the same blunt accents; 'I didn't snore; did I?
No--a.'
The old man smiled and shrugged a little at me--it was the smile of
disgust.
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