was allowing a foolish idea to interfere with the happiness
of them all.

But his anger with her was never enduring; and, indeed, before the
time at which our story commenced he had begun to acknowledge to
himself that he might rather be afraid of her anger than she of his.
There was a courage about her which nothing could dash. She had grown
up under his eyes strong, brave, sometimes almost bold, with a dash
of humour, but always quite determined in her own ideas of wrong
or right. He had in truth been all but afraid of her when he found
himself compelled to tell her of the decision to which his conscience
compelled him. But the will was made,--the third, perhaps the fourth
or fifth, which had seemed to him to be necessary since his mind had
been exercised in this matter. He made this will, which he assured
himself should be the last, leaving Llanfeare to his nephew on
condition that he should prefix the name of Indefer to that of Jones,
and adding certain stipulations as to further entail. Then everything
of which he might die possessed, except Llanfeare itself and the
furniture in the house, he left to his niece Isabel.

"We must get rid of the horses," he said to her about a fortnight
after the conversation last recorded.

"Why that?"

"My will has been made, and there will be so little now for you, that
we must save what we can before I die."

"Oh, bother me!" said Isabel, laughing.

"Do you suppose it is not dreadful to me to have to reflect how
little I can do for you? I may, perhaps, live for two years, and we
may save six or seven hundred a year. I have put a charge on the
estate for four thousand pounds. The property is only a small thing,
after all;--not above fifteen hundred a year."

"I will not hear of the horses being sold, and there is an end of it.
You have been taken out about the place every day for the last twenty
years, and it would crush me if I were to see a change. You have done
the best you can, and now leave it all in God's hands. Pray,--pray
let there be no more talking about it. If you only knew how welcome
he is to it!"

CHAPTER II

Isabel Brodrick

When Mr Indefer Jones spoke of living for two years, he spoke more
hopefully of himself than the doctor was wont to speak to Isabel. The
doctor from Carmarthen visited Llanfeare twice a week, and having
become intimate and confidential with Isabel, had told her that the
candle had nearly burnt itself down to the socket. Ther