f men, it is very odd that he never contrived to make it up
with the old lady."

"He never had any quarrel with her," answered old Augustus. "He was
always her favourite son."

Valentine looked at him with surprise. He appeared to be oppressed with
the lassitude of sleep, and yet to be struggling to keep his eyes open
and to say something. But he only managed to repeat his last words.
"I've told John all that I wish him to know," he next said, and then
succumbed and was asleep again.

"The favourite son, and natural heir!" thought Valentine. "No quarrel,
and yet not inherit a shilling! That is queer, to say the least of it.
I'll go up to London and have another look at that will. And he has
told John something or other. Unless his thoughts are all abroad then,
he must have been alluding to two perfectly different things."

Valentine now went to the carriage and fetched in the footman, hoping
that at sight of him his uncle might be persuaded to come home; but this
was done with so much difficulty that, when at last it was accomplished,
Valentine sent the carriage on to fetch John, and sat anxiously watching
till he came, and a medical man with him.

Sleep and weakness, but no pain, and no disquietude. It was so at the
end of a week; it was so at the end of a fortnight, and then it became
evident that his sight was failing; he was not always aware whether or
not he was alone; he often prayed aloud also, but sometimes supposed
himself to be recovering.

"Where is Valentine?" he said one afternoon, when John, having left him
to get some rest, Valentine had taken his place. "Are we alone?" he
asked, when Valentine had spoken to him. "What time is it?"

"About four o'clock, uncle; getting dusk, and snow falls."

"Yes, I heard you mention snow when the nurse went down to her tea. I am
often aware of John's presence when I cannot show it. Tell him so."

"Yes, I will."

"He is a dear good son to me."

"Yes."

"He ought not to make a sorrow of my removal. It disturbs me sometimes
to perceive that he does. He knows where my will is, and all my papers.
I have never concealed anything from him; I had never any cause."

"No, indeed, uncle."

"Till now," proceeded old Augustus. Valentine looked attentively in the
failing light at the majestic wreck of the tall, fine old man. He made
out that the eyes were closed, and that the face had its usual
immobile, untroubled expression, and the last words startled him. "I
have