ens to be, in a
sort of a way, his own son, he is going to destroy the whole family.
I think that it is very wicked." But she had not a word of censure
for the heir who had consumed his mess of pottage.

"Wasn't she grand?" said Clary, as soon as they were out again upon
the road. "She is such a dear old woman, but she doesn't understand
anything. I couldn't help giving you a look when she was abusing
our friend. When she knows it all, she'll have to make you such an
apology."

"I hope she will not do that."

"She will if she does not forget all about it. She does forget
things. There is one thing I don't agree with her in at all. I don't
see any shame in your Ralph having the property; and, as to his being
nobody, that is all nonsense. He would be somebody, wherever he went,
if he had not an acre of property. He will be Mr. Newton, of Newton
Priory, just as much as anybody else could be. He has never done
anything wrong." To all which Mary Bonner had very little to say. She
certainly was not prepared to blame the present Squire for having so
managed his affairs as to be able to leave the estate to his own son.

The two girls were very energetic, and walked back the whole way to
Popham Villa, regardless of a dozen omnibuses that passed them. "I
told her all about our Ralph,--my Ralph,"--said Clary to her sister
afterward. "I could not help telling her now."

"Dear Clary," said Patience, "I wish you could help thinking of it
always."

"That's quite impossible," said Clarissa, cheerily.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

ALONE IN THE HOUSE.

Young Newton at last found himself alone in the house at Newton
Priory after his father's death. He had sent George Morris away,
becoming very stern in his demand to be left to his solitude as long
as opposition was made to him. Gregory had come down to him from the
parsonage, and had also been dismissed. "Your brother will be here
probably to-day," said Ralph, "and then I will send for you."

"I am thinking more of you than of my brother, just now," answered
the parson.

"Yes, I know,--and though I cannot talk to you, I know how good you
are. I want to see nobody but him. I shall be better alone." Then
Gregory had returned to the parsonage.

As soon as Ralph was alone he crept up to the room in which his
father's body was lying, and stood silently by the bedside for above
an hour. He was struggling to remember the loss he had had in the
man, and to forget the loss in wealth an