till after
that ceremony, he was cringing in his compliance.

"Whatever you think best, Isabel, shall be done. I would not
interfere for a moment."

Then some time afterwards, on the following day, he assured her that
whatever might be the nature of the will, she was to regard Llanfeare
as her home as long as it would suit her to remain there.

"I shall go back to papa very soon," she had said, "as soon, indeed,
as I can have my things packed up after the funeral. I have already
written to papa to say so."

"Everything shall be just as you please," he replied; "only, pray,
believe that if I can do anything for your accommodation it shall be
done."

To this she made some formal answer of courtesy, not, it may be
feared, very graciously. She did not believe in his civility; she
did not think he was kind to her in heart, and she could not bring
herself to make her manner false to her feelings. After that, during
the days that remained before the funeral, very little was said
between them. Her dislike to him grew in bitterness, though she
failed to explain even to herself the cause of her dislike. She did
know that her uncle had been in truth as little disposed to love him
as herself, and that knowledge seemed to justify her. Those last
words had assured her at any rate of that, and though she was quite
sure of her own conscience in regard to Llanfeare, though she was
certain that she did not covet the possession of the domain, still
she was unhappy to think that it should become his. If only for the
tenants' sake and the servants, and the old house itself, there were
a thousand pities in that. And then the belief would intrude itself
upon her that her uncle in the last expression of his wishes had not
intended his nephew to be his heir.

Then, in these days reports reached her which seemed to confirm her
own belief. It had not been the habit of her life to talk intimately
with the servants, even though at Llanfeare there had been no other
woman with whom she could talk intimately. There had been about her
a sense of personal dignity which had made such freedom distasteful
to herself, and had repressed it in them. But now the housekeeper
had come to her with a story to which Isabel had found it impossible
not to listen. It was reported about the place that the Squire had
certainly executed another will a few days after Isabel had left
Llanfeare.

"If so," said Isabel sternly, "it will be found when Mr Apjohn come