downstairs heavy-eyed and weary. She blamed herself,
then, for her mean suspicions; she said to herself, as she gave her
father his morning cup of coffee, that no face could be more incapable
of concealing a wrong than that noble old face opposite to her, and she
tried to atone for her feelings by extra tenderness of voice and manner.
But though this revulsion of feeling came with the morning, the night
brought back the same agony. She now disliked even to think of Mrs.
Home, she never spoke of her to John Hinton. He watched for her to do
so, but the name of this young woman which had so intensely interested
her never passed her lips. When Hinton told her that little Harold was
better, and that on a certain day he and his mother would be in Kentish
Town once more, she colored slightly and changed the subject. Hinton
rather wondered at this. Uncle Jasper also remarked it. It was now a
week to the wedding-day, and Charlotte was nerving herself for an
effort. She had firmly resolved that before she really gave herself to
Hinton, she would read her grandfather's will. She felt that nothing
else would completely set her mind at rest. She dreaded doing this as
much as she longed for it. Each day as it dawned she had put off the
task, but when the day just a week before her wedding came, she felt
that she must overcome what she called a weakness. She would learn the
worst that very day. She had little or no idea how to carry out her
design. She only knew that the will was kept at Somerset House, that if
she went there and allowed herself to go through certain forms she
should see it. She had never seen a will in her life, she scarcely knew
even what it would look like. Nevertheless, she could consult no one.
She must just go to the place and trust to circumstances to do the rest.

On the thirteenth of April she resolved, as she put on her dress and
hurried down to meet her father at breakfast, that before that night
came she would carry out her design. Her father seemed better that
morning. The day was a specially lovely one, and Charlotte said to
herself that, before that time to-morrow, her heart would be at rest;
she would not even allow herself to glance at a darker alternative.
Indeed, happy in having at last firmly made up her mind; she became
suddenly scarcely at all fearful, scarcely anything but completely
hopeful. She resolved that nothing should turn her from her purpose
to-day.

Her father kissed her, told her he