ish my foot, for all the lawyers'll care."

"Oh, Auntie!"

"You know, he faithfully promised to provide for me. And now the talk
is he never made a will at all. You can't believe the talk. But, oh,
it's awful to me. The suspense! It'll break my heart to give up North
Ride."

"Auntie," said Mavis presently; "if you chance upon Will, don't speak
to him."

"Why not?"

She whispered the answer. "He found out about _him_ and me."

"Oh, did he? How did he take it?"

"Awfully badly."

But Mrs. Petherick did not seem to care twopence about the domestic
trouble of Mavis and Will. Her thoughts were engrossed by her own
affairs.

"Mavis, I do think this: that if there's a will found, I shall be in
it. He wasn't a liar, whatever he was."

That night there seemed to be a tremendous lot of drunkenness in
Rodchurch, and when the Gauntlet Inn closed you could hear the
shouting as far off as the post office. But next day the village was
quietly drowsy as of old: it had got over its excitement.

Weeks passed, and for Mavis time began to glide. All things in the
post office itself had resumed their ordinary course, and she felt
instinctively that up-stairs, as well as down-stairs, a normal order
would rule again before very long. Outwardly she and Dale were just
what they used to be. They were not, however, really living as husband
and wife. She suffered, but made no complaint. All would come right.

X

Mr. Barradine had not died intestate. This fact was made known at the
post office in a sudden and perturbing manner by a letter to Mavis
from Messrs. Cleaver, the Old Manninglea solicitors. Messrs. Cleaver
informed her that the London firm who were acting in the matter of Mr.
Barradine's will had instructed them to communicate with her, because
certain documents--such as attested copies of her birth certificate,
marriage certificate, and so on--would presently be required; and it
would be convenient to Messrs. Cleaver, if she could pay them a call
within the next two or three days.

Mavis gave the letter to Dale when they met at breakfast, and he read
it slowly and thoughtfully.

"What do you suppose it means, Will?"

"I suppose it means that you're one of the leg'tees."

"Yes." Mavis drew in her breath. "It came into my mind that it might
be that."

"I don't see what else it can be."

His face had become dull and expressionless, and he spoke in a heavy
tone.

"I may go over and see Mr. Cleaver, mayn't