ing to rule--no peer of the realm could
have had a more magnificent funeral. Lady Hampton felt that in every
respect full honor had been done both to the living and the dead.

"Now," she wisely remarked, "there is nothing to be done, save to bear
up as well as it is possible."

Then, after a solemn and dreary dinner, the friends and invited guests
went away, and the most embarrassing ceremony of all had to be gone
through--the reading of the will.

Mr. Ramsden, the family solicitor, was in attendance. Captain Langton,
Lady Darrell, Lady Hampton, and Miss Darrell took their seats. Once or
twice Lady Hampton looked with a smile of malicious satisfaction at the
proud, calm face of Pauline. There was nothing there to gratify her--no
queen could have assisted at her own dethronement with prouder majesty
or prouder grace. Some of the old retainers, servants who had been in
the family from their earliest youth, said there was not one who did not
wish in his heart that Pauline might have Darrell Court.

Lady Darrell, clad in deepest mourning, was placed in a large easy-chair
in the center of the group, her aunt by her side. She looked extremely
delicate and lovely in her black sweeping robes.

Pauline, who evidently thought the ceremony an empty one, as far as she
was concerned, stood near the table. She declined the chair that Captain
Langton placed for her. Her uncle was dead; she regretted him with true,
unfeigned, sincere sorrow; but the reading of his will had certainly
nothing to do with her. There was not the least shadow on her face, not
the least discomposure in her manner. To look at her one would never
have thought she was there to hear the sentence of disinheritance.

Lady Darrell did not look quite so tranquil; everything was at stake for
her. She held her dainty handkerchief to her face lest the trembling of
her lips should be seen.

Mr. Ramsden read the will, and its contents did not take any one much by
surprise. The most important item was a legacy of ten thousand pounds to
Captain Aubrey Langton. To Pauline Darrell was left an annuity of five
hundred pounds per annum, with the strict injunction that she should
live at Darrell Court until her marriage; if she never married, she was
to reside there until her death. To all his faithful servants Sir Oswald
left legacies and annuities. To his well-beloved wife, Elinor, he
bequeathed all else--Darrell Court, with its rich dependencies and royal
revenues, his