"You knew her father well, I believe?"
Mr. Harding's answer was emphatic. "I should say I did, sir. Poor old Jack
and I were boys together. Why, he married a cousin of mine, as good as a
sister. And we should have been partners now if he hadn't died. Some
people never understood Jack, and after Jenny died he got queerer than
ever; but he and I never had a cloud between us."
Tom had stopped still in the road. The ground seemed to be swaying under
his feet, and something caught him in the throat so that he could scarcely
speak. "Was your cousin Rhoda's mother?" he asked.
"Yes; she was their only child. I knew she was safe and happy with the
M'Alisters, or I would have looked after her more. I've no chick nor child
of my own, and I mean Rhoda to have a big slice of what I've got to
leave."
Tom did not catch the last words clearly. "My aunt's sister married a Mr.
James Sampson," he hurried to say. "Was he related to Miss Sampson's
father?"
"Ah, that was Jim. He got lost in the bush, poor fellow. He had his girl
with him. Yes, he was Jack's brother. They lived close together in
Melbourne. I fancy Rhoda was named after Jim's little girl. They were
about the same age; but Jenny died when Rhoda was a year old, and Jack
left Melbourne for Adelaide."
When Tom and Mr. Harding reached the house, he went hastily in search of
his aunt.
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