"Yes."
"My aunt, consequently?"
He bowed.
"My uncle John was your uncle John? You, Diana, and Mary are his
sister's children, as I am his brother's child?"
"Undeniably."
"You three, then, are my cousins; half our blood on each side flows
from the same source?"
"We are cousins; yes."
I surveyed him. It seemed I had found a brother: one I could be
proud of,--one I could love; and two sisters, whose qualities were
such, that, when I knew them but as mere strangers, they had
inspired me with genuine affection and admiration. The two girls,
on whom, kneeling down on the wet ground, and looking through the
low, latticed window of Moor House kitchen, I had gazed with so
bitter a mixture of interest and despair, were my near kinswomen;
and the young and stately gentleman who had found me almost dying at
his threshold was my blood relation. Glorious discovery to a lonely
wretch! This was wealth indeed!--wealth to the heart!--a mine of
pure, genial affections. This was a blessing, bright, vivid, and
exhilarating;--not like the ponderous gift of gold: rich and
welcome enough in its way, but sobering from its weight. I now
clapped my hands in sudden joy--my pulse bounded, my veins thrilled.
"Oh, I am glad!--I am glad!" I exclaimed.
St. John smiled. "Did I not say you neglected essential points to
pursue trifles?" he asked. "You were serious when I told you you
had got a fortune; and now, for a matter of no moment, you are
excited."
"What can you mean? It may be of no moment to you; you have sisters
and don't care for a cousin; but I had nobody; and now three
relations,--or two, if you don't choose to be counted,--are born
into my world full-grown. I say again, I am glad!"
I walked fast through the room: I stopped, half suffocated with the
thoughts that rose faster than I could receive, comprehend, settle
them:- thoughts of what might, could, would, and should be, and that
ere long. I looked at the blank wall: it seemed a sky thick with
ascending stars,--every one lit me to a purpose or delight. Those
who had saved my life, whom, till this hour, I had loved barrenly, I
could now benefit. They were under a yoke,--I could free them:
they were scattered,--I could reunite them: the independence, the
affluence which was mine, might be theirs too. Were we not four?
Twenty thousand pounds shared equally would be five thousand each,
justice--enough and to spare: justice would be done,--mutual
happiness secured. Now the wealth did not weigh on me: now it was
not a mere bequest of coin,--it was a legacy of life, hope,
enjoyment.