rndyke
might decide was best, but you were not to come into the property until
you married. Your cousin was also to be informed when you came to the
age of twenty-one, and as at that time he was to take his half share of
the remainder of the property, he would then be able to arrange his life
as he liked. If your uncle died, as unfortunately he has done, before
you reached the age of twenty-one, you would then be placed in your
proper position; but your father desired us to say to you that it was
his wish, that if it could be arranged, your having succeeded to the
ownership should not be publicly known until you divulged it to your
husband after marriage. The other portions of the will must be carried
out. This being only a request, you are at liberty to follow it or not
as you may choose."

"Certainly I should choose," the girl said. "After all this trouble to
prevent my being run after as an heiress, it would be wicked to upset
it all and to fly in the face of his wishes by setting up as mistress of
this estate. Still you understand, Mr. Prendergast, that I don't mean to
take it."

The lawyer smiled indulgently. "There is one way in which it might be
managed," he said. "Perhaps you can guess what it is?"

A flush of color rose over the girl's face. "Don't say it, I beg of you,
Mr. Prendergast. Mrs. Cunningham hinted at it this morning, and I told
her that my own wish entirely agreed with that of my father, and that
I was determined not to be married for money; and I am quite sure that
Mark would be as unwilling as I am that the estate should change hands
in that way. No, Mr. Prendergast, you must find some other way of doing
it than that. Surely an estate cannot be forced upon anyone who is
determined not to take it."

"Well, we must think it over," Mr. Prendergast said quietly. "And now I
think that it is time for me to join the others."

CHAPTER X.

The funeral of Squire Thorndyke and Mr. Bastow was over, and all
agreed they had never seen a more affecting spectacle than that at the
churchyard when the two coffins were brought in. The distance was short,
and the tenants had requested leave to carry the Squire's bier, while
that of Mr. Bastow was borne by the villagers who had known and loved
him. Behind followed all the magistrates and a great number of the
gentry for miles round; the churchyard was crowded by every man, woman,
and child in the village, and the women, as well as many of the men,
wept