ve borne bad fortune better than this," said Mr. Moreland; and
then I remember telling him, in incoherent words, how poor we had been
and how Clare was fading away for want of the nourishment and good
support I was utterly unable to find for her.

After a time I became calmer and listened while he told me of the death
of the stately Sir Barnard and his eldest son. They had gone away
together on a trip to Italy. Miles Trevelyan was very fond of pictures,
and his father had given him permission to buy what he pleased for the
great picture gallery at Crown Anstey.

They went together to Florence, where a fearful epidemic was raging.
They, all unconscious of it, remained there for one night, caught it,
and in two days both lay dead.

I asked how old was Miles, this eldest and favorite son. He told me
twenty-seven. I asked again, had he never been married. He answered no;
that, of course, if he had been married and had children, I should not
be the heir to Crown Anstey.

"There was some little unpleasantness between father and son over a love
affair," said Mr. Moreland. "I do not know the particulars. Mr. Miles
Trevelyan was very proud and reserved. He mentioned it to us, but we
heard no more of it."

"What am I to do next?" I asked him, nervously.

"You ought to go down at once to Crown Anstey. The bodies of the two
gentlemen will be brought home for interment. They died on the 18th;
this is the 22d. We spent three days in trying to find out your address.
They will be at Crown Anstey, I should say, to-morrow. You should be
there to receive them and to officiate as head mourner. Mr. Paine and
myself will both be there, as a matter of course."

"Then I must ask Mr. Lawson's permission," I said, doubtfully.

Mr. Moreland laughed.

"He will soon give you that. You will find the master of Crown Anstey a
powerful personage."

"There is another thing," I said, with a crimson flush burning my face;
"I have but five shillings and sixpence in all the world."

He laughed aloud at this.

"I can advance you whatever you like, then--five hundred pounds or
more."

The very mention of such a sum positively frightened me. Mr. Moreland
looked very much amused.

"It will be some time," he said, "before you grow accustomed to ten
thousand a year."

At that moment we were interrupted by the arrival of another client. I
rose to take my leave, with a check for three hundred pounds in my hand.

"You will go down to Crown Anste