e was represented by----," and then a
caricature of herself.

The letter was from Aunt Rachel:

"My Dear, My Best-Beloved Glory: I know how much your kind _heart_ will
be lowered by the painful tidings I have to write to you. Lord Storm died
on Monday and was buried to-day. To the last he declared he would never
consent to make peace with John, and he has left nothing to him but his
title, so that our dear friend is now a nobleman without an estate.
Everybody about the old lord at the end was unanimous in favour of his
son, but he would not listen to them, and the scene at the deathbed was
shocking. It seems that with his dying breath and many bursts of laughter
he read aloud his will, which ordered that his effects should be sold and
the proceeds given to some society for the protection of the Established
Church. And then he told old Chaise that as soon as he was gone a coffin
was to be got and he was to be screwed down at once, 'for,' said he, 'my
son would not come to see me _living_, and he sha'n't stand grinning at
me _dead_.' The funeral was at Kirkpatrick this morning, and _few_ came
to see the last of one who had left none to mourn him; but just as the
remains were being deposited in the dark vault a carriage drove up and an
elderly gentleman got out. No one knew him, and he stood and looked down
with his impassive face while the service was being read, and then,
without speaking to any one, he got back into the carriage and drove
away. The _minute_ he was gone I told Anna he was somebody of
consequence; and then everybody said it must be Lord Storm's brother and
no less a person than the Prime Minister of England. It seems that the
sale is to come off immediately, so that Knockaloe will be a waste, as if
sown with salt; and, so far as this island is concerned, all trace of the
Storms, father and son, will be gone for good. I ever knew it must end
thus! But I will more particularly tell you everything when we meet
again, which I hope may be _soon_. Meantime I need not say how much I am,
my dear child, your ever fond--nay, more than fond--_devoted_ auntie.

"Rachel."

XI.

"Yes," said Rosa, across the dinner table, "the sudden fall of a man who
has filled a large space in the public eye is always pitiful. It is like
the fall of a great tree in the forest. One never realized how big it was
until it was down."

"It's awful! awful!" said Glory.

"Whether one liked the man or not, such a downfall seem