Cousin Henry

at Lla

g taken her departure from the place in the manner proposed by her. And the lawyer was gone, and the doctor, and the tenants did not come near him, and the butler

sire that he had come to Llanfeare, and been introduced to the tenants as their future landlord, and had taken upon himself the place of the heir. Then the old man had announced to him his change of mind; but had not announced it to others, had not declared his altered purpose to the world at Llanfeare, and had not at once sent him back to his London office. Had he done so, that would have

awyer as a man triumphant in his own honesty, who at the first moment that it was possible had surrendered all that which was not legally his own, in spite of the foul usage to which he had been subjected. He might still assume the grand air of injured innocence, give back the property to the young woman who had insulted him, and return to his desk in London, leaving behind him in Carmarthenshire a character for magnanimity and honour. Such a line of conduct had charms in his eyes. He was quite alive to the delight of heaping coals of fire on his cousin's head. She had declared that she would receive nothing at his hands, because she despised him. After that there would be a sweetness, the savour of which was not lost upon his imagination,

ere had been the declared reason of the will and its understood purpose. He had been sent for, and all Carmarthenshire had been made to understand why it was to be so. Then, in his sickness, the old man had changed his mind through some fantastic feeling, and almost on his death-bed, with failing powers, in a condition probab

attendant on such a deed as that. To be made to stand in the dock and be gazed at by the angry eyes of all the court, to be written of as the noted criminal of the day, to hear the verdict of guilty, and then the sentence, and to be aware that he was to be shut up and secluded from a

d the fear of eternal punishment would be heavy on his soul, only to be removed by confession and retribution,-and then by the trial with the judge, and the jury, and the sentence! He could not destroy the document. But if the book could get itself destroyed, what a blessing it would be! The book was his own, or would be in a few days, when the will should have been properly proved. But if he were to take away the book and sink it in a well, or throw it into the sea, or bury it deep beneath the earth, then it would surely reappear by one of thos

Llanfeare was concerned. Some maid-servant might find it; some religious inmate of his house who might come there in search of godly teaching! If he could only bring himself to do something at once,-to declare that it was there, so that he might

the Sunday; and though no one had spoken to him of his daily life, he felt that tales were being told of him. He was sure that Mrs Griffith had whispered about the place the fact of his constant residence in one room, and that those who heard it would begin to say among themselves that a practice so strange must be connected with the missing will. No, he would not willingly live at Llanfeare. But if he could let Llanfeare, were it but for a song, and enj

be necessary that he should either resign his place or go back to his duties. That the Squire of Llanfeare should be a clerk at the Sick and Healthy would be an anomaly. Could he really be in possession of his rents, the Sick and Healthy would of course see no more of him; but were he to throw up his position and then to lose Llan

ly that were I forced at the present to choose between the two I should keep my clerkship in the office; but as the condition of things is so extraordinar

he book beneath the waves, or have resolved to do that magnanimous deed which it was still within his power to achieve. The only one thing not

ith had given him warning that she would leave his service, and he had somewhat angrily told her that she might go as soon as it pleased her. Since that she had come to him once daily for his orders, and those orders had certainly been very simple. He had revelled in no luxuries of the table or the cellar since the keys of the hou

want to know

there is no mistress she can only go to the master. We always were very qu

anything," sai

y to come in my

to you? You can go

Mrs Bridgeman." Mrs Bridgeman was the cook. "They say they don'

affectation of anger, feeling that he was bound to be indignant at such inquiries from his own servant, but with more of

se you can live anywhere yo

ich was no doubt intended to be impertinen

situations, and I thought it my duty just to tell you, because yo

s against me?" he asked sudden

e did despise him thoroughly. "I don't know about turning,

y get enou

't know as you have interfered about that; not bu

riffith? Why do th

eases in his own house. There is nothing to make him go out, not even to see his own tenants, nor his own farm, nor nothing else. He's his own master

there! Of course they would know that this mystery must have some reference to the will. Thus they would so far h

h it. And as with such a word, so it was with his secret. He must be careful that no eye should once see that his face was turned towards the shelf. At t

ning. As for me, I wouldn't go to inconvenience my old master's heir. I'll stay

ousin Henry, trying to fix his ey