Cousin Henry

ding of

ir work in the old man's bed-room, and then carried it on in the parlour. When they came to the book-room, as being the next in turn, Cousin Henry took his hat and went out into the garden. There, as he made short turns upon the gravel path, he endeavoured to force himself away from the close vicinity of the window; but he could not do it. He could not go where he woul

the last that they reached. No attempt was made to open the books one by one; but then this volume, with so thick an enclosure to betray it, would certainly open of itself. He himself had gone to the place so often that certainly the enclosure would betray it

e doing! At last the very three came down, in the centre of which was the volume containing the will. There was a tree against which he leaned, unable to support himself, as he looked into the room. The vacant place was searched, and then the three books were replaced! No attempt was made to examine the volumes. The men who did the work clearly

had not asked to be made heir to the property! It was not his doing. He had been invited to come in order that he might be received as the heir, and since he had come, every one about the place had misused him. The tenants had treated him with d

id to him and had done for him. Who, after that, would expect him to go out of his way in search of special magnanimity? Let them find the will if they wanted it! Even though he should resolve himself to

red to no one that every book should be opened. It was still July, and the day was very long. From six in the morning till

He was a little wandering at last." It was thus th

it was not so, but

om which could be paid the legacy which had nominally been left to her. She had told her father when at Hereford that her uncle had taken such care of her that she would not become a burden upon him. Now it seemed that she would have to return home without a shilling of her own. For one so utterly penniless to think of marrying a man who had lit

n found, and to explain to those who heard it that he proposed, as joint executor with Dr Powell, to act upon that as the last will;-but still with a proviso that another will might possibly be forthcoming. Though he had in a measure quarrelled with the Squire ov

hat use could it be, as I know everythin

d the necessity which would be incumbent upon him to explain that th

to-morrow,

ns to this final surrender of Llanfeare; but she was not to be turned from her purpose. "Llanfea

ld not

ot love each other. Since he has been here I have kept away from him with disgust. He

not have been p

rious bunches. "You had better give them to him yourself when you have read the will, so that I need have nothing to say to him. There are some books of mine which my uncle gave me. Mrs Griffith wi

it was

st will,-in the presence of Cousin Henry, of Dr Powell, who had again co

he had thought it right to leave the old family property to his nephew, Henry Jones. Then, with all due circumstances of description, the legacy was made in favour of his nephew. There were other legacies; a small sum of money to Mr Apjohn himself, for the trouble imposed upon him as executor, a year's wages to each of his servants and other matters of the kind. There was also left to Isabel that sum of four th

on of the estate, will probably feel himself called upon to

ould be acted upon as though it were the last will and testament of the deceased,-though, in default of that for which futile search had been made, it certainly was what it purported to be,-still there existed in full force all those reasons which he had stated on the Monday for supposing that the late Squire had executed another. Here Joseph Cantor, junior

for three months, but they did not think that they could be happy in the house now that the old Squire was dead, and that Miss Isabel was going away. There certainly did not come to him at the present moment any of the pleasures of ownership. He woul

must reveal it. He thought that he could have dropped the book containing the will into the sea, though he could not bring himself to b

was hers,-though it could not become hers without some more than magnanimous interference on his part. To divide it would certainly be best. But there was no other way of dividing it but by a marriage. For any other division, such as separ

bid her adieu, and tell her that she should certainly have the money that had bee

r the will read,

answered

e been told

lieve

four thousa

ousand pounds. There is not a word to be sai

tone of his voice that he thought that his communication would be received with favour,-"I have come to tell you th

ouble yourself,

tainly I

e of this, that on no earthly considerat

y n

e whom we love and esteem,

you despise

but be sure of this, that though I were st

lone. It was clear to him then that he could not divide the pr