s affairs. The rascal had never told
me how that property was disposed, or whether Mr. Huntingdon had died
intestate or not; and I would sooner die than ask him, lest he should
misconstrue into covetousness my desire to know. He never offered to
show me his sister's letters now, and I never hinted a wish to see them.
February, however, was approaching; December was past; January, at
length, was almost over--a few more weeks, and then, certain despair or
renewal of hope would put an end to this long agony of suspense.

But alas! it was just about that time she was called to sustain another
blow in the death of her uncle--a worthless old fellow enough in himself,
I daresay, but he had always shown more kindness and affection to her
than to any other creature, and she had always been accustomed to regard
him as a parent. She was with him when he died, and had assisted her
aunt to nurse him during the last stage of his illness. Her brother went
to Staningley to attend the funeral, and told me, upon his return, that
she was still there, endeavouring to cheer her aunt with her presence,
and likely to remain some time. This was bad news for me, for while she
continued there I could not write to her, as I did not know the address,
and would not ask it of him. But week followed week, and every time I
inquired about her she was still at Staningley.

'Where is Staningley?' I asked at last.

'In --shire,' was the brief reply; and there was something so cold and
dry in the manner of it, that I was effectually deterred from requesting
a more definite account.

'When will she return to Grassdale?' was my next question.

'I don't know.'

'Confound it!' I muttered.

'Why, Markham?' asked my companion, with an air of innocent surprise.
But I did not deign to answer him, save by a look of silent, sullen
contempt, at which he turned away, and contemplated the carpet with a
slight smile, half pensive, half amused; but quickly looking up, he began
to talk of other subjects, trying to draw me into a cheerful and friendly
conversation, but I was too much irritated to discourse with him, and
soon took leave.

You see Lawrence and I somehow could not manage to get on very well
together. The fact is, I believe, we were both of us a little too
touchy. It is a troublesome thing, Halford, this susceptibility to
affronts where none are intended. I am no martyr to it now, as you can
bear me witness: I have learned to be merry and wis