this strange afternoon, Miss Marshall was
summoned mysteriously from watching the due performance of an imposition,
and was told, outside the door, that Mr. Morton wanted to speak to her.

It was startling news, for though the Misses Lang were kindly women, and
had never thrown obstacles in the way of her engagement, they had merely
permitted it, and almost ignored it, except when old Mrs. Morton was
dying, and they had freely facilitated her attendance. 'Surely something
as dreadful as the running down of the _Emma Jane_ must have happened!'
thought Mary as she sped to the drawing-room. She was a little brown
mouse of a woman, with soft dark eyes, smooth hair, and a clear olive
complexion, on which thirty-eight years of life and eighteen of waiting
had not left much outward trace; for the mistresses were good women, who
had never oppressed their underling, and though she had not met with much
outward sympathy or companionship, the one well of hope and joy might at
times suffer drought, but had never run dry, any more than the better
fountain within and beyond.

In she came, with eyes alarmed but ready to console. 'Oh, Frank, what is
it? What can I do for you?'

'It is no bad news,' was his greeting, as he put his arm round her
trembling little figure and kissed her brow. 'Only too good.'

'Oh, is Mrs. Charles going to be married?' the only hopeful contingency
she could think of.

'No,' he said; 'but, Mary, an extraordinary incident has taken place. I
have inherited a property.'

'A property? You are well off! Oh, thank God!' and she clasped her
hands, then held his. 'At last! But what? How? Did you know?'

'I knew of the connection, but that the family had never taken notice of
my father. As to the rest I was entirely unprepared. My
great-grandfather was a younger son of the first Lord Northmoor, but for
some misconduct was cast off and proscribed. As you know, my grandfather
and father devoted themselves to horses on the old farm, and made no
pretensions to gentility. The elder branch of the family was once
numerous, but it must have since dwindled till the old lord was left with
only a little grandson, who died of diphtheria a short time before his
grandfather.'

'Poor old man!' began Mary. 'Then--oh! do you mean that he died too?'

'Yes; he was ill before, and this was a fatal blow. It appears that he
was aware that I was next in the succession, and after the boy's death
had desired the