o servants, and one gift of the late Mrs. Harper's jewels.

"I meant them," the old man wrote, "for my eldest son's wife.
Disappointed in this, I leave them to Anne Valery."

Major Harper moved restlessly in his chair. Anne sat quiet. The young
Agatha looked at them, and wondered if people grew callous as they grew
old.

"Is it all read?" said Frederick.

"Yes. Stay, here are a few lines; a codicil, I fancy, affixed with seals
to the body of the will I can hardly make it out."

And as Mr. Harper perused it, his wife observed his countenance change.
He let the paper drop, and sat silent.

"What is it? Read,", cried Harrie Dugdale.

"I cannot--Anne, will you? God knows, brothers and sisters"--and he
looked all round the circle with an eagerly appealing gaze--"God knows
I never knew or dreamed of this. Anne, read."

"Shall I read, Major Harper?"

He was gazing out of the window with an absent air. At the sound of her
voice he started, and gave some mechanical assent.

Anne read the date--of only twelve days back.

"That was the very day that he was taken ill, you know," whispered Mary.

The codicil began:

"I, Nathanael Harper, being in sound mind and body, do hereby make
my last will and testament, utterly revoking all others, in so far
as relates to my two sons. I leave to my younger son, Nathanael Locke
Harper, all my landed, real, and personal estate, praying that he may
long live and maintain our name in honour at Kingcombe Holm. To my
eldest son--having no desire to expose to ruin the family estate, or
link the family name with more dishonour than it already bears--to my
eldest son, Frederick Harper, I leave the sum of One Shilling."

Anne's reading ceased. Dead silence, utter, frightened silence,
followed. Then arose a chorus of women's voices--"Oh, Frederick!--oh,
Frederick!"

Frederick rose, feebly smiling. "It is a mistake--all a mistake. My
father was not in his right mind."

The sisterly tide turned. "Oh, hush, Frederick! How wicked of you to say
so!"

"Well read it over again," said Marmaduke Dugdale, waking up into the
interests of the world around him. Anne gave him the paper, and he read
it with his ponderous, manly voice, rounding out every bitter word which
Anne had softened down. All was undoubtedly legal, signed in his own
hand, and witnessed by two of his servants. There could be no doubt it
was done immediately before the paralytic attack, when he was perfectly
in his senses; ind