her's pet, as Sarah Jane had been her father's
darling. There was some excuse, therefore, for Maryanne when she
endeavoured to get what she could in the scramble. Sarah Jane played
the part of Goneril to the life, and would have denied her father the
barest necessaries of existence, had it not ultimately turned out
that the property was his own.

Maryanne was not well pleased to see her sister returning to the
house at such a moment. She, at least, had been dutiful to her
mother, or, if undutiful, not openly so. If Mrs. McCockerell had the
power of leaving her property to whom she pleased, it would be only
natural that she should leave it to the daughter who had obeyed her,
and not to the daughter who had added to personal disobedience the
worse fault of having been on friendly terms with her father.

This, one would have thought, would have been clear at any rate to
Jones, if not to Sarah Jane; but they both seemed at this time to
have imagined that the eldest child had some right to the inheritance
as being the eldest. It will be observed by this and by many other
traits in his character that Mr. Jones had never enjoyed the
advantages of an education.

Mrs. McCockerell never spoke after the fit first struck her. She
never moved an eye, or stirred a limb, or uttered a word. It was a
wretched household at that time. The good lady died on a Wednesday,
and was gathered to her fathers at Kensal Green Cemetery on the
Tuesday following. During the intervening days Mr. Jones and Sarah
Jane took on themselves as though they were owners of everything.
Maryanne did try to prevent the inventory, not wishing it to appear
that Mrs. Jones had any right to meddle; but the task was too
congenial to Sarah Jane's spirit to allow of her giving it over. She
revelled in the work. It was a delight to her to search out hidden
stores of useless wealth,--to bring forth to the light forgotten
hoards of cups and saucers, and to catalogue every rag on the
premises.

The house at this time was not a pleasant one. Mr. Brown, finding
that Jones, in whom he had trusted, had turned against him, put
himself very much into the hands of a young friend of his, named
George Robinson. Who and what George Robinson was will be told in the
next chapter.

"There are three questions," said Robinson, "to be asked and
answered.--Had Mrs. B. the power to make a will? If so, did she make
a will? And if so, what was the will she made?"

Mr. Brown couldn't re