n earth brought me to
this benighted spot, and I really don't know yet."

"Grandpapa's invitation, I suppose," says Molly, laughing.

"Well, yes, perhaps so; and something else,--something that I verily
believe brings us all!--the fact that he has untold money, and can
leave it where he pleases. There lies the secret of our yearly
visitations. We outsiders don't of course hope to be the heir,--Philip
is that, or Marcia, or perhaps both; but still there is a good deal of
ready money going, and we all hope to be 'kindly remembered.' Each time
we sacrifice ourselves by coming down here, we console ourselves by the
reflection that it is at least another hundred tacked on to our
legacy."

"What if you are disappointed?"

"I often think of that," says her ladyship, going off into a perfect
peal of laughter. "Oh, the fun it would be! Think of our expressions. I
assure you I spend whole hours picturing Maud Darley's face under the
circumstances; you know she takes those long drives with him every day
in the fond hope of cutting us all out and getting the lion's share."

"Poor woman! it is sad if she has all her trouble for nothing. I do not
think I should like driving with grandpapa."

"I share your sentiments: neither should I. Still, there is a charm in
money. Every night before going to bed I tot up on my fingers the
amount of the bequest I feel I ought to receive. It has reached two
thousand pounds by this. Next visit will commence a fresh thousand."

"You are sanguine," says Molly. "I wonder if I shall go on hoping like
you, year after year."

"I request you will not even insinuate such a thing," cries Lady
Stafford in pretended horror. "'Year after year!' Why, how long do you
mean him to live? If he doesn't die soon, I shall certainly throw up my
chance and cut his acquaintance." Then, with sudden self-reproach,
"Poor old fellow," she says, "it is a shame to speak of him like this
even in jest. He may live forever, as far as I am concerned. Now tell
me something about yourself, and do take a more comfortable chair: you
don't look half cozy."

"Don't make me too comfortable, or perhaps I shall bore you to death
with the frequency of my visits. You will have me again to-morrow if
you don't take care."

"Well, I hope so. Remember you have _carte blanche_ to come here
whenever you choose. I was fast falling into the blues when I heard you
knock, so you may fancy how welcome you were, almost as welcome as my
cousi