e the blow came
from, and I looked my uncle in the face; a gleam of malignant pleasure
was in his eyes, which had been fixed on me, waiting to receive my
glance. I returned it with a smile expressive of scorn and contempt, and
then looked at my father, who appeared to be in a state of misery. His
head had fallen upon his breast, and his hands were clasped. Although I
was shocked at the blow, for I knew how much the money was required, I
felt too proud to show it; indeed, I felt that I would not for worlds
have exchanged situations with my uncle, much less feelings; for when
those who remain meet to ascertain the disposition made, by one who is
summoned away to the tribunal of his Maker, of those worldly and
perishable things which he must leave behind him, feelings of rancour
and ill-will might, for the time, be permitted to subside, and the
memory of a "departed brother" be productive of charity and good-will.
After a little reflection, I felt that I could forgive my uncle.

Not so my father; the codicil which deprived me of my inheritance, was
the last of the will, and the lawyer rolled up the parchment and took
off his spectacles. Everybody rose; my father seized his hat, and
telling me in a harsh voice to follow him, tore off the crape weepers,
and then threw them on the floor as he walked away. I also took off
mine, and laid them on the table, and followed him. My father called his
carriage, waited in the hall till it was driven up, and jumped into it.
I followed him; he drew up the blind, and desired them to drive home.

"Not a sixpence! By the God of heaven, not a sixpence! My name not even
mentioned, except for a paltry mourning ring! And yours--pray sir, what
have you been about, after having such a sum left you, to forfeit your
grandfather's good opinion? Heh! sir--tell me directly," continued he,
turning round to me in a rage.

"Nothing, my dear father, that I'm aware of. My uncle is evidently my
enemy."

"And why should he be particularly your enemy? Peter, there must be some
reason for his having induced your grandfather to alter his bequest in
your favour. I insist upon it, sir, that you tell me immediately."

"My dear father, when you are more calm, I will talk this matter over
with you. I hope I shall not be considered wanting in respect, when I
say, that as a clergyman of the church of England--"

"D--n the church of England, and those that put me into it!" replied my
father, maddened with rage.