f the old squire, and more than one of them was longing to be twenty
miles away, as Mr. Craig was, knowing what was to become of Hetty
Sorrel--pretty Hetty Sorrel--whom they used to see every week. They had
the partisanship of household servants who like their places, and
were not inclined to go the full length of the severe indignation felt
against him by the farming tenants, but rather to make excuses for him;
nevertheless, the upper servants, who had been on terms of neighbourly
intercourse with the Poysers for many years, could not help feeling that
the longed-for event of the young squire's coming into the estate had
been robbed of all its pleasantness.

To Arthur it was nothing surprising that the servants looked grave and
sad: he himself was very much touched on seeing them all again, and
feeling that he was in a new relation to them. It was that sort of
pathetic emotion which has more pleasure than pain in it--which is
perhaps one of the most delicious of all states to a good-natured man,
conscious of the power to satisfy his good nature. His heart swelled
agreeably as he said, "Well, Mills, how is my aunt?"

But now Mr. Bygate, the lawyer, who had been in the house ever since
the death, came forward to give deferential greetings and answer all
questions, and Arthur walked with him towards the library, where his
Aunt Lydia was expecting him. Aunt Lydia was the only person in the
house who knew nothing about Hetty. Her sorrow as a maiden daughter
was unmixed with any other thoughts than those of anxiety about funeral
arrangements and her own future lot; and, after the manner of women,
she mourned for the father who had made her life important, all the more
because she had a secret sense that there was little mourning for him in
other hearts.

But Arthur kissed her tearful face more tenderly than he had ever done
in his life before.

"Dear Aunt," he said affectionately, as he held her hand, "YOUR loss is
the greatest of all, but you must tell me how to try and make it up to
you all the rest of your life."

"It was so sudden and so dreadful, Arthur," poor Miss Lydia began,
pouring out her little plaints, and Arthur sat down to listen with
impatient patience. When a pause came, he said:

"Now, Aunt, I'll leave you for a quarter of an hour just to go to my own
room, and then I shall come and give full attention to everything."

"My room is all ready for me, I suppose, Mills?" he said to the butler,
who seemed