said. But he proceeded to explain to her how
very important an affair money is, and that persons who have got
money cannot be excused for not considering what they had better do
with it. No doubt she could get 4 per cent. on her money by buying up
certain existing mortgages on the Saulsby property,--which would no
doubt be very convenient if, hereafter, the money should go to her
brother's child. "Not yet, Papa," she said again, having, however,
already made up her mind that her money should have a different
destination.

She could not interest her father at all in the fate of Phineas Finn.
When the story of the murder had first been told to him, he had been
amazed,--and, no doubt, somewhat gratified, as we all are, at tragic
occurrences which do not concern ourselves. But he could not be made
to tremble for the fate of Phineas Finn. And yet he had known the man
during the last few years most intimately, and had had much in common
with him. He had trusted Phineas in respect to his son, and had
trusted him also in respect to his daughter. Phineas had been his
guest at Dresden; and, on his return to London, had been the first
friend he had seen, with the exception of his lawyer. And yet he
could hardly be induced to express the slightest interest as to
the fate of this friend who was to be tried for murder. "Oh;--he's
committed, is he? I think I remember that Protheroe once told me
that, in thirty-nine cases out of forty, men committed for serious
offences have been guilty of them." The Protheroe here spoken of as
an authority in criminal matters was at present Lord Weazeling, the
Lord Chancellor.

"But Mr. Finn has not been guilty, Papa."

"There is always the one chance out of forty. But, as I was saying,
if you like to take up the Saulsby mortgages, Mr. Forster can't be
told too soon."

"Papa, I shall do nothing of the kind," said Lady Laura. And then she
rose and walked out of the room.

At the end of ten days from the death of Mr. Kennedy, there came the
tidings of the will. Lady Laura had written to Mrs. Kennedy a letter
which had taken her much time in composition, expressing her deep
sorrow, and condoling with the old woman. And the old woman had
answered. "Madam, I am too old now to express either grief or anger.
My dear son's death, caused by domestic wrong, has robbed me of any
remaining comfort which the undeserved sorrows of his latter years
had not already dispelled. Your obedient servant, Sarah Kenn