orns in the next world as he had been in this, he should find Master
Charles's arm very useful to lean upon. Two days later he died, and the
title, and Dene Folly with it, went to a far-away cousin, whom neither
Sir John nor his wife had ever seen. Then it was found how the baronet
had contrived that his spite should outlive him--for only out of spite
and mean cruelty could he have made such a will as he did make: that
Deepley Walls should not become her ladyship's absolute property till
the end of twenty years, during the whole of which time his body was to
remain unburied, and to be kept under the same roof with his widow,
wherever she might live. The mean, paltry scoundrel! Perhaps her
ladyship might have had the will set aside, but she would not go to law
about it. Thank Heaven! the twenty years are nearly at an end. Deepley
Walls has been a haunted house ever since that midnight when Sir John
was borne in on the shoulders of six strong men. And now tell me whether
her ladyship is not a woman to be pitied."

* * * * *

At a quarter before eleven next morning, Mr. Solomon Madgin, Lady
Chillington's agent and general man-of-business, arrived by appointment
at Deepley Walls. Mr. Madgin was indispensable to her ladyship, who had
a considerable quantity of house property in and around Eastbury,
consisting chiefly of small tenements, the rents of which had to be
collected weekly. Then Mr. Madgin was bailiff for the Deepley Walls
estate, in connection with which were several small farms or "holdings"
which required to be well looked after in many ways. Besides all this,
her ladyship, having a few spare thousands, had taken of late years to
dabbling in scrip and shares in a small way, and under the skilful
pilotage of Mr. Madgin had hitherto contrived to steer clear of those
rocks and shoals of speculation on which so many gallant argosies are
wrecked. In short, everything except the law-business of the estate
filtered through Mr. Madgin's hands, and as he did his work cheaply and
well, and put up with her ladyship's ill-temper without a murmur, the
mistress of Deepley Walls could hardly have found anyone who would have
suited her better.

Mr. Solomon Madgin was a little dried-up man, about sixty years old. His
tail-coat and vest of rusty black were of the fashion of twenty years
ago. He wore drab trousers, and shoes tied with bows of black ribbon.
His head, bald on the crown, had an ample f