ed, for it would seem as if I
had not cared for her until she turned out to be an heiress."

"You are a silly young couple," the lawyer said. "I can only hope that
as you grow older you will grow wiser. Well, you had better come up and
have a talk with me about the assets your uncle mentions in his will."

"Then you don't know anything about them, sir?"

"Nothing at all, except as to the accumulations in his absence. He
mentioned vaguely that he was a wealthy man. I thought that, as a matter
of course, he had told his brother all about it."

"It is a curious business, sir, and I doubt if there will ever be
anything besides the accumulations you speak of."

"Bless me, you don't say so! Well, well, I always thought that it was
the most foolish business that I ever heard of. However, you shall tell
me all about it when you come up. I shall miss my coach unless I start."

So saying, he shook Mark's hand, took his place in the gig, and was
driven away. Millicent did not come downstairs again that day.

"She is thoroughly upset," Mrs. Cunningham said, "and it would be best
to let her have her own way for a time. I think the sooner I can get
her away from here the better. The house is full of sad memories, and I
myself feel shaken and in need of a change."

"I can quite understand her feeling and yours, Mrs. Cunningham. I do
hope you will be able to disabuse her mind of the idea that I have any
shadow of feeling of regret that she instead of I has the estate, and
please try to work upon her on the ground of her father's wishes. I
could see that her face changed when Mr. Prendergast put the matter
in that light, which I do not think had occurred to her before. I am
thinking of going up to town in a couple of days; I was thinking of
doing so tomorrow, but a day or so will make no difference. I propose
that you both go with me, and that I then help you look for a house.
Even if you don't get one at once, a week in London will be a change,
and you can then, if you like, go somewhere for a time. Of course Bath
would be too gay at present; but you might go to Tunbridge Wells, or, if
she would like a seaside place, as she has never been near the sea since
she was a baby, that would be the greatest change for her. You might go
down for a month or two to Dover or Hastings. There is no occasion for
you to settle down in London for a time. There is Weymouth, too, if you
would like it better. I believe that that is a cheerful place