o stages, but remained the same
unimpassioned individual he had been ever since he became a member of
the Maxfield household.

"Armstrong," said the boy, the day before the funeral, "do you know, I'm
the only male Ingleton left?"

"I didn't know it. Have you no uncles or cousins?"

"None on our side. Some distant cousins on, mother's side, but they're
abroad. We were going over the lot yesterday, mother and I; but we
couldn't scrape up a single relation to come to-morrow. We shall have
to get you and Brandram and fathers solicitor to come to the funeral, if
you don't mind."

"Of course I shall come," said Mr Armstrong.

"And, by the way, it seems rather queer, doesn't it, that I shall have
charge of all this big property, and, I suppose, be master of all the
people about the place."

"Naturally. Amongst your humble and obedient servants the present tutor
of Maxfield will need to be included."

"Oh, you!" said Roger, smiling; "yes, you'll need to look out how you
behave, you know, or I shall have to terminate our engagement. Isn't it
queer?"

Queer as it was, the tutor winced at the jest, and screwed his eye-glass
a little deeper into his eye.

"Seriously, though," said Roger, "I'm awfully glad I've got you here to
advise me. I want to do things well about the place, and keep square
with the tenants, and improve a great many things. I noticed a whole
lot of cottages to-day that want rebuilding. And I think I ought to
build a club-room for the young fellows in the village, and give a new
lifeboat to replace the `Vega,' What do you think?"

"I'll tell you this time to-morrow. Meanwhile what do you say to a ride
before dark? It would do you good."

They had a long trot through the lanes and along the shore, ending with
a canter over the downs, which landed the heir of Maxfield at home with
a glow in his cheeks and an appetite such as he had not known for a
week.

Next day the funeral took place in the family vault at the little
churchyard of Yeld. The villagers, as in duty bound, flocked to pay
their last respects to the old Squire, whose face for the last twenty
years they had scarcely seen, and of whose existence, save on rent-day,
many of them had been well-nigh ignorant.

Many an eye turned curiously to the slim, pale boy, as he stood alone,
the last of his house, at the open tomb; and many a speculation as to
his temper and prospects occupied minds which were supposed to be intent
on the s