nder the
waves of the North Atlantic; and then Mynheer Stuyvesant, the old Dutch
gentleman who had been driven from his own land for the faith's sake,
and having been the boys' tutor, had stayed for love after necessity was
over, took his last journey to the better country; and dear, honest,
simple Cousin Bess Wolvercot, friend and helper of all, went to receive
her reward, with--

"Nothing to leave but a worn-out frame,
And a name without a stain;
Nothing to leave but an empty place,
That nothing could fill again--"

And after that, Lady Lettice felt herself growing old. The evening
shadows crept further, and her right hand in household affairs was gone;
but with the constant love and aid of Edith, she held on her way, until
the sorest blow of all fell on her, and the husband who had been ever
counsellor and comforter and stay, left her side for the continuing
City. Since then, Lettice Louvaine had been simply waiting for the day
when she should join him again, and in the interim trying through
growing infirmities to "do the next thing,"--remembering the words
uttered so long ago by his beloved cousin Anstace, that some day the
next step would be the last step.

When Sir Aubrey Louvaine died, at the age of seventy-nine, two years
before the story opens, Aubrey, his grandson and namesake, became the
owner of Selwick Hall: but being under age, every thing was left in the
hands of his grandmother.

The pang of Lady Louvaine's bereavement was still fresh when another
blow fell on her. Her husband had inherited Selwick from a distant
cousin, known in the neighbourhood as the Old Squire. The Old Squire's
two sons, Nicholas and Hugh, had predeceased him, Sir Aubrey had taken
peaceable possession of the estate, and no one ever doubted his title
for fifty years, himself least of all. Three months after his death,
Lady Louvaine was astounded to receive a lawyer's letter, claiming the
Selwick lands on behalf of one Oswald Louvaine of Newcastle, a young man
who asserted himself to be the grandson of the long-deceased Hugh. His
documentary proofs were all in order, his witnesses were numerous and
positive, and Lady Louvaine possessed no counter-proof of any kind to
rebut this unheard-of claim. After a vain search among her husband's
papers, and a consultation with such of her friends and relatives as she
judged suitable, she decided not to carry the matter into a court of
law, but to yield peace