compensate for the loss of those reciprocal feelings,
which would have so added to his happiness during his existence. But he
had lived for pomp and vanity; and pomp and vanity attended him to his
grave. I thought of my sister Ellen, and of O'Brien, and walked away
with the conviction that Peter Simple might have been an object of envy
to the late Right Honourable Lord Viscount Privilege, Baron Corston,
Lord Lieutenant of the county, and one of His Majesty's Most Honourable
Privy Councillors.

When the funeral, which was very tedious and very splendid, was over, we
all returned in the carriages to Eagle Park, when my uncle, who had of
course assumed the title, and who had attended as chief mourner, was in
waiting to receive us. We were shown into the library, and in the chair
so lately and constantly occupied by my grandfather, sat the new lord.
Near to him were the lawyers, with parchments lying before them. As we
severally entered, he waved his hand to unoccupied chairs, intimating to
us to sit down; but no words were exchanged, except an occasional
whisper between him and the lawyers. When all the branches of the family
were present, down to the fourth and fifth cousins, the lawyer on the
right of my uncle put on his spectacles, and unrolling the parchment
commenced reading the will. I paid attention to it at first; but the
legal technicalities puzzled me, and I was soon thinking of other
matters, until after half an hour's reading, I was startled at the sound
of my own name. It was a bequest by codicil to me, of the sum of ten
thousand pounds. My father who sat by me, gave me a slight push, to
attract my attention; and I perceived that his face was not quite so
mournful as before. I was rejoicing at this unexpected intelligence. I
called to mind what my father had said to me when we were returning from
Eagle Park, "that my grandfather's attentions to me were as good as ten
thousand pounds in his will," and was reflecting how strange it was that
he had hit upon the exact sum. I also thought of what my father had said
of his own affairs, and his not having saved anything for his children,
and congratulated myself that I should now be able to support my dear
sister Ellen, in case of any accident happening to my father, when I was
roused by another mention of my name. It was a codicil dated about a
week back, in which my grandfather, not pleased at my conduct, revoked
the former codicil, and left me nothing. I knew wher