t was a new message of peace; her tears were
softer, and she dwelt fondly on little Anna's pretty ways, speaking, and
Violet hearing, as if it had been a loss of to-day, instead of more than
thirty long years ago.

Lady Martindale opened a dressing-box, saying how relieved she had been
to find it safe, and from a secret drawer drew out a paper and showed
Violet some soft locks of chestnut hair. 'Their papa gave me these,' she
said. 'My dear aunt would not let me look at them--she thought it hurt
me; but I must see if Anna's hair is not just like Helen's.' And then
she begged Violet not to be alarmed at the resemblance, and kissed her
for saying she was glad of it, and had no fears on that score. She dwelt
on these reminiscences as if they were a solace of which she could never
taste enough, and did not cease talking over them till Lord Martindale
entered. Violet understood his feeling and the reserve hitherto shown
to him sufficiently to attempt breaking it down, and ventured, as
she quitted the room, to lay her hand on the little curl, and say,
'Grandmamma thinks Helen like her little Anna.'

Seeing Arthur leaning on the balusters, looking discomposed, she went
down to him. 'Where have you been!' he said, rather sulkily.

'With your mother; I hope she is growing more calm.'

'Very absurd of her to take it so much to heart!' said Arthur, entering
the drawing-room. 'Have you heard about this will?'

'No. What?'

'Never was such a will on this earth! It ought to be brought into court!
I verily believe the old hag studied to make it a parting emanation of
malice!'

'Oh, hush! hush!' cried Violet, shocked.

'It is all very well saying Hush, hush; but I should like to know what
you mean to live upon?'

'What has she done?'

'She has gone and left it all to that child!'

'What child?'

'My son--your boy John, I tell you; but, mark you, so as to do no good
to a living soul. Not a penny is he to touch till we are all dead, if we
starve meantime. She has tied it up to accumulate till my eldest son--or
John's, if he has one--comes to the title, and much good may it do him!'

'Poor little dear!' said Violet, inexpressibly pained by his tone.

'Anything but poor! It is L100,000 to begin with, and what will it
be when he gets it? Think of that doing nothing, and of us with no
dependence but the trumpery L5000 by the marriage settlements. It is
enough to drive one crazy.'

'It is a pity,' said Violet, frightened by