omed larger upon him now than they had ever done before.

On the third day the rector went up to London, leaving Harry at the
parsonage. It was necessary that lawyers should be visited, and that
such facts as to the loss should be proved as were capable of proof.
There was no doubt at all as to the fate of Sir Hugh and his brother.
The escape of Mr. Stuart and of two of those employed by him prevented
the possibility of a doubt. The vessel had been caught in a gale off
Heligoland, and had foundered. They had all striven to get into the
yacht's boat, but those who had succeeded in doing so had gone down. The
master of the yacht had seen the two brothers perish. Those who were
saved had been picked up off the spars to which they had attached
themselves. There was no doubt in the way of the new baronet, and no
difficulty.

Nor was there any will made either by Sir Hugh or his brother. Poor
Archie had nothing to leave, and that he should have left no will was
not remarkable. But neither had there been much in the power of Sir Hugh
to bequeath, nor was there any great cause for a will on his part. Had
he left a son, his son would have inherited everything. He had, however,
died childless, and his wife was provided for by her settlement. On his
marriage he had made the amount settled as small as his wife's friends
would accept, and no one who knew the man expected that he would
increase the amount after his death. Having been in town for three days,
the rector returned, being then in full possession of the title; but
this he did not assume till after the second Sunday from the date of the
telegram which brought the news.

In the mean time Harry had written to Florence, to whom the tidings were
as important as to any one concerned. She had left London very
triumphant, quite confident that she had nothing now to fear from Lady
Ongar or from any other living woman, having not only forgiven Harry his
sins, but having succeeded also in persuading herself that there had
been no sins to forgive--having quarrelled with her brother half a dozen
times in that he would not accept her arguments on this matter. He too
would forgive Harry--had forgiven him--was quite ready to omit all
further remark on the matter--but could not bring himself; when urged by
Florence, to admit that her Apollo had been altogether godlike. Florence
had thus left London in triumph, but she had gone with a conviction that
she and Harry must remain apart for so