I thought you ought to know it." "That would never have made any difference, Claudius," she answered half reproachfully.
"My uncle--my father's brother--died a week before I sailed." "I am sorry, dear," said she in ready sympathy; "were you fond of him ?" She did not realise what he meant.
"I never remember to have seen him," he replied; "but--he died childless.

And I--I am no longer a _privat-docent_." Margaret turned quickly to him, comprehending suddenly.
"Then you are the heir ?" she asked.
"Yes, darling," he said softly.

"It is a great name, and you must help me to be worthy of it.

I am no longer Dr.Claudius." He added the last sentence with a shade of regret.
"And you need never have taken any trouble about this stupid money, after all?
You are independent of all these people ?" "Yes," he answered, with a smile, "entirely so." "I am so glad,--so glad, you do not know," said she, clasping her hands on his shoulder.

"You know I hated to feel you were wrangling with those lawyers for money;" and she laughed a little scornfully.
"We will have it, all the same," said Claudius, smiling, "and you shall do as you like with it, beloved.