It is in our strong room.

You are not one-and-twenty yet ?" "Not till next December, sir," she replied.
"Roland Sefton is the only executor appointed," he continued, his face contracting for an instant, as if some painful memory flashed across him; "and, since he is dead, I succeed to the charge as his executor.
You will be my ward, Phebe, till you are of age." "Will it be much trouble, sir ?" she asked anxiously.
"None at all," he answered; "I hope it will be a pleasure; for, Phebe, it will not be fit for you to live alone at Upfold Farm; and I wish you to come here--to make your home with me till you are of age.

It would be a great pleasure to me, and I would take care you should have every opportunity for self-improvement.

I know you are not a fine young lady, my dear, but you are sensible, modest, and sweet-tempered, and we should get on well together.

If you were happy with me I should regard you as my adopted daughter, and provide accordingly for you.