The Last of the Mortimers

n the matter which I was then discussing with Mr. Cresswell, our solicitor, that I did not look round, as I c

ah, who never speaks except to me, and then only in a whisper, pronounced distinctly, loud out, the following words: “His Christi

When she saw that her voice was gone for good, Sarah gave up talking. She declared to me privately that to keep up a conversation in that hoarse horrid whisper was more than she could give in to, and though she was a very good Christian in principle she never could be resigned to that loss. At first she kept upstairs in her own room; but after

atural, and ran to her

and caught one of her pins in my new-fashioned buttonholes. “At your age a gentlewoman should move about in a different

oul! you’ve got back

trong are always thinking such things,” she said. “You don’t kno

cried Mr. Cresswell, quite eagerl

of those spirits we hear about nowadays. And a very useful bit of information too, which makes it all the more remarkable, for I never h

be something with that name. Begging your pardon, Miss Milly, though he was a Mortimer, he ought to have had either a profession or a trade with that name. Don’t y

n I nodded as I came to myself, and at las

our temper, my dear lady,” said Mr. Cresswell; “all the cou

st of you, never know the real mettle of them that come of the soil; we’re as clear of the soil as

and her knitting. “Well, well, it isn’t bad ore, at all events,” he said, with a chuc

both of us; I’d advise you to set things agoing without delay. What would happen, do you suppose, if Sarah and I were

rs. “Heirs-at-law are never so far lost or mislaid but they turn up some time. Birds of the air carry the matter

as on that outlandish Scotch castle of hers. It’s a great deal nearer, and I make sure it’s prettier; or if she gave it to the Prince of Wales as a pr

so very long ago, and I rather think she sought out the heirs and made it up to them. Depend upon it, Mr. Richard Arkwright would have it out of her. Come, we must stick to the M

a little first, and I’ll see if I can find out anything further about

identially. “You don’t remember an

dy, I was only a child. I neither knew nor cared anything about the Lancashi

people, would never have looked at me when Sarah was present in old days; but now, when we were both old women, the sly old

going to stay

is not to be named in the same breath with yours; but I promised to be home to di

the dear chi

To tell the truth, I don’t know what to make of her. I ha

her contrairy,” said I. “But perh

etty tough life, anyhow; and it is hard to be thwart

id I a little sharply. “If we had your Sara belonging to us, contrairy or not

a moment, and then at Sarah, with a lip that moved slightly, as if he were uncon

you’d soon have her in hand, Miss Milly; there’s no place s

king that I had seen what wa