he cleared her voice and demanded--

'Doctor Bryerly, pray, sir, is the reading concluded?'

'Concluded? Quite. Yes, nothing more,' he answered with a nod, and
continued his talk with Mr. Danvers and Abel Grimston.

'And to whom,' said Lady Knollys, with an effort, 'will the property
belong, in case--in case my little cousin here should die before she comes
of age?'

'Eh? Well--wouldn't it go to the heir-at-law and next of kin?' said Doctor
Bryerly, turning to Abel Grimston.

'Ay--to be sure,' said the attorney, thoughtfully.

'And who is that?' pursued my cousin.

'Well, her uncle, Mr. Silas Ruthyn. He's both heir-at-law and next of kin,'
pursued Abel Grimston.

'Thank you,' said Lady Knollys.

Doctor Clay came forward, bowing very low, in his standing collar and
single-breasted coat, and graciously folded my hand in his soft wrinkled
grasp--

'Allow me, my dear Miss Ruthyn, while expressing my regret that we are to
lose you from among our little flock--though I trust but for a short,
a very short time--to say how I rejoice at the particular arrangement
indicated by the will we have just heard read. My curate, William
Fairfield, resided for some years in the same spiritual capacity in the
neighbourhood of your, I will say, admirable uncle, with occasional
intercourse with whom he was favoured--may I not say blessed?--a true
Christian Churchman--a Christian gentleman. Can I say more? A most happy,
happy choice.' A very low bow here, with eyes nearly closed, and a shake of
the head. 'Mrs. Clay will do herself the honour of waiting upon you, to pay
her respects, before you leave Knowl for your temporary sojourn in another
sphere.'

So, with another deep bow--for I had become a great personage all at
once--he let go my hand cautiously and delicately, as if he were setting
down a curious china tea-cup. And I courtesied low to him, not knowing
what to say, and then to the assembly generally, who all bowed. And Cousin
Monica whispered, briskly, 'Come away,' and took my hand with a very cold
and rather damp one, and led me from the room.

CHAPTER XXV

_I HEAR FROM UNCLE SILAS_

Without saying a word, Cousin Monica accompanied me to the school-room, and
on entering she shut the door, not with a spirited clang, but quietly and
determinedly.

'Well, dear,' she said, with the same pale, excited countenance, 'that
certainly is a sensible and charitable arrangement. I could not have
believed it possible,