cousin, but he had
fancied that there might be some trifling legacy for him. He would have
been more thankful than words could say for half the annuity which was
left to the butler. The remembrance of that paper which but for him
would have been all powerful rose vividly before his eyes. Did he repent
now that he was certain of the greatness of the sacrifice? Again from
the bottom of his heart he answered, No. But even while Hardwicke read
the words which doomed him to beggary it almost seemed to young Thorne
as if the wrinkled waxen face and shrunken figure must suddenly become
visible in the background to protest--as if a dead hand must be laid on
that lying will which was itself more dead than the newly-buried corpse.
Even in that bitter moment Percival was sorry for the poor old squire.

Hardwicke finished, and thought it all very well. He did not pity the
young fellow opposite him who had listened so intently and now was
looking thoughtfully into space. The lawyer summed up Percival's
position in his own mind thus:

He had an income of his own, amount unknown, but as during Alfred
Thorne's life it had sufficed for both, it must be more than enough to
support the son.

He was engaged to Sissy Langton. Her father had left her at least eight
hundred pounds a year, besides which there were all the accumulations of
a long minority and this legacy. Mr. Hardwicke thought that the united
incomes would be more than fifteen hundred pounds a year.

There were expectations too. Mrs. Middleton was rich, and though some of
her property would revert to her husband's family, Hardwicke knew that
she had saved a considerable sum. He had no doubt that those savings and
her brother's ten thousand pounds would go to Sissy, and consequently to
Percival.

And lastly he looked at the new owner of Brackenhill. No, Mr. Hardwicke
did not pity Mr. Percival Thorne.

All these thoughts had flashed through his mind as he folded the paper
and laid it down. Mrs. Middleton broke the silence. "But Percival--" she
exclaimed in utter bewilderment: "I don't understand. What does
Percival have?"

"Nothing," said the young man quickly, lifting his head and facing her
with a brave smile.

"Nothing? It isn't possible! It isn't right!"

"That will was made before ever I came here. It doesn't mean any
unkindness to me, for he didn't know me."

"But did he never make another?--Horace!--Oh, Mr. Hardwicke, _you_ know
Godfrey never meant this! That