"No;--I do not think that will be necessary," said the son.

"I should think not," said the mother.

CHAPTER XX.

WILLIAM BELTON DOES NOT GO OUT HUNTING.

We will now follow the other message which was sent down into
Norfolk, and which did not get into Belton's hands till the Monday
morning. He was sitting with his sister at breakfast, and was
prepared for hunting, when the paper was brought into the room.
Telegraphic messages were not very common at Plaistow Hall, and on
the arrival of any that had as yet reached that house, something
of that awe had been felt with which such missives were always
accompanied in their earliest days. "A telegruff message, mum, for
Mr. William," said the maid, looking at her mistress with eyes opened
wide, as she handed the important bit of paper to her master. Will
opened it rapidly, laying down the knife and fork with which he was
about to operate upon a ham before him. He was dressed in boots and
breeches, and a scarlet coat,--in which garb he was, in his sister's
eyes, the most handsome man in Norfolk.

"Oh, Mary!" he exclaimed.

"What is it, Will?"

"Mr. Amedroz is dead."

Miss Belton put out her hand for the paper before she spoke again, as
though she could better appreciate the truth of what she heard when
reading it herself on the telegraph slip than she had done from her
brother's words. "How sudden! how terribly sudden!" she said.

"Sudden indeed. When I left him he was not well, certainly, but I
should have said that he might have lived for twenty years. Poor old
man! I can hardly say why it was so, but I had taken a liking to
him."

"You take a liking to everybody, Will."

"No I don't. I know people I don't like." Will Belton as he said this
was thinking of Captain Aylmer, and he pressed the heel of his boot
hard against the floor.

"And Mr. Amedroz is dead! It seems to be so terribly sudden. What
will she do, Will?"

"That's what I'm thinking about."

"Of course you are, my dear. I can see that. I wish,--I wish--"

"It's no good wishing anything, Mary. I don't think wishing ever did
any good yet. If I might have my wish, I shouldn't know how to have
it."

"I was wishing that you didn't think so much about it."

"You need not be troubled about me. I shall do very well. But what is
to become of her,--now at once? Might she not come here? You are now
the nearest female relation that she has." Mary looked at him with
her anxious, painful eyes,