My client died
intestate."

The listeners exchanged glances, and looked grave and concerned.

"No will?" said Lord Bannerdale, anxiously; then his kindly face
cleared. "But of course everything goes to his daughter; the estate is
not entailed?"

Mr. Wordley inclined his head.

"The estate is not entailed, as you observed, Lord Bannerdale; and my
client, Miss Ida Heron, inherits everything."

They drew a breath of relief, and nodded assentingly; and presently
they made a general movement of departure. Lord Bannerdale lingered
behind the others. "I won't ask the poor child to see me, Mr. Wordley,"
he said. "Will you therefore be good enough to give her Lady
Bannerdale's love, and to tell her that, as Lady Bannerdale has written
to her, we shall be more than pleased if she will come to us at the
Court. She is to consider it her home for just as long as she should
please; and we shall feel it a pleasure and an honour to have her
amongst us as one of our own. Of course she cannot remain alone here,
in this great place."

The old lawyer bowed.

"I will give her your kind message, for which I thank you on her
behalf, Lord Bannerdale. I do not know what she will do, or where she
will go; at present she is not in a condition to discuss any plans for
her future, though to-day she expressed a desire to remain at the
Hall." He paused for a moment before he added: "I do not know whether
she can do so."

"My cousin is young, and a mere child, and she must follow the advice
of her elders and her guardian. The future of even the sparrow is in
higher hands than ours, and we know not what a day may bring forth,"
said Mr. John Heron, grimly, and with an uplifting of his heavy brows.

"Quite so," said Lord Bannerdale, who had taken a great dislike for the
sanctimonious speaker, and who could scarcely repress a shudder as he
shook Mr. John Heron's cold and clammy hand.

When they had all gone, Mr. Wordley said:

"We had better go into the library and talk matters over. I will send
for Miss Ida. It seems cruel to disturb her at such a moment, but there
is no help for it."

"You speak as if you had bad tidings, Mr. Wordley, to give us," said
John Heron.

"I am afraid I have," responded the old lawyer, shaking his grey head
sadly.

CHAPTER XXVII.

When Ida came down, he led her to a chair beside the fire which he had
ordered to be lit, and laid his hand gently and tenderly on her
shoulder by way of preparation an