uthyn's residing anywhere but under his own immediate
care. As he bases his refusal, first upon a conscientious difficulty,
declaring that he has no right, through fear of personal contingencies, to
abdicate an office imposed in so solemn a way, and so naturally devolving
on him as only brother to the deceased; and secondly upon the effect such a
withdrawal, at the instance of the acting trustee, would have upon his own
character, amounting to a public self-condemnation; and as he refused to
discuss these positions with me, I could make no way whatsoever with him.
Finding, therefore, that his mind was quite made up, after a short time I
took my leave. He mentioned that preparations for his niece's reception are
being completed, and that he will send for her in a few days; so that I
think it will be advisable that I should go down to Knowl, to assist Miss
Ruthyn with any advice she may require before her departure, to discharge
servants, get inventories made, and provide for the care of the place and
grounds during her minority.

'I am, respected Madam, yours truly,

HANS E. BRYERLY.'

I can't describe to you how chapfallen and angry my cousin looked. She
sniffed once or twice, and then said, rather bitterly, in a subdued tone:--

'Well, _now_; I hope you are pleased?'

'No, no, no; you _know_ I'm not--grieved to the heart, my only friend, my
dear Cousin Monica; but my conscience is at rest; you don't know what a
sacrifice it is; I am a most unhappy creature. I feel an indescribable
foreboding. I am frightened; but you won't forsake me, Cousin Monica.'

'No, darling, never,' she said, sadly.

'And you'll come and see me, won't you, as often as you can?'

'Yes, dear; that is if Silas allows me; and I'm sure he will,' she added
hastily, seeing, I suppose, my terror in my face. 'All I can do, you may be
sure I will, and perhaps he will allow you to come to me, now and then, for
a short visit. You know I am only six miles away--little more than half an
hour's drive, and though I hate Bartram, and detest Silas--Yes, I _detest
Silas_,' she repeated in reply to my surprised gaze--'I _will_ call at
Bartram--that is, I say, if he allows me; for, you know, I haven't been
there for a quarter of a century; and though I never understood Silas, I
fancy he forgives no sins, whether of omission or commission.'

I wondered what old grudge could make my cousin judge Uncle Silas always
so hardly--I could not suppose it was justice.