ain in the village of Glenwood was heard the sound of the tolling
bell; again through the garden and over the running water brook moved
the long procession to the graveyard; and soon Ernest Hamilton lay
quietly sleeping by the side of his wife and children.

For some time after the funeral nothing was said concerning the will,
and Margaret had almost forgotten the existence of one, when one day
as she was passing the library door her mother appeared, and asked her
to enter. She did so, and found there her brother, whose face, besides
the marks of recent sorrow which it wore, now seemed anxious and
expectant.

"Maggie dear," said the oily-tongued woman, "I have sent for you to
hear read your beloved father's last will and testament."

A deep flush mounted to Margaret's face, as she repeated somewhat
inquiringly, "Father's last will and testament?"

"Yes, dear," answered her mother, "his last will and testament. He
made it several weeks ago, even before poor Carrie died; and as Walter
is now the eldest and only son, I think it quite proper that he should
read it."

So saying, she passed toward Walter a sealed package, which he
nervously opened, while Margaret, going to his side, looked over his
shoulder, as he read.

It is impossible to describe the look of mingled surprise, anger, and
mortification which Mrs. Hamilton's face assumed, as she heard the
will which her husband had made four weeks before his death, and in
which Walter shared equally with his sister. Her first impulse was to
destroy it; and springing forward, she attempted to snatch it from
Walter's hand, but was prevented by Margaret, who caught her arm and
forcibly held her back.

Angrily confronting her stepdaughter, Mrs. Hamilton demanded, "What
does this mean?" to which Mag replied:

"It means, madam, that for once you are foiled. You coaxed my father
into making a will, the thought of which ought to make you blush.
Carrie overheard you telling Lenora, and when she found that she must
die she wrote it on a piece of paper, and consigned it to Willie's
care!"

Several times Mrs. Hamilton essayed to speak, but the words died away
in her throat, until at last, summoning all her boldness, she said, in
a hoarse whisper, "But the homestead is mine--mine forever, and we'll
see how delightful I can make your home!"

"I'll save you that trouble, madam," said Walter, rising and advancing
toward the door. "Neither my sister nor myself will remain beneath