In the dining-room were only the immediate family. Every one knew the probable purport of the will, and how simple a document it was likely to be; for the patriarchal old Squire hated the very mention of law, and it had been his pride that, though not entailed, the inheritance of Kingcombe Holm had descended for centuries unbroken by a single legal squabble. Therefore they all waited indifferently, merely to go through a necessary form; Harriet Dugdale and her husband, Eulalie and her _fiancé_, and the solitary Mary. Major Harper alone was rather restless, especially when the three others came in from the study. It was noticeable that, with all his smooth manner, Frederick never seemed quite at ease in the presence of Miss Valery. Nevertheless he tried, and successfully, to assume his position as elder brother and present head of the family. He gave Anne a gracious welcome. “I scarcely expected you would have honoured us so far. This is entirely a family meeting.” “Shall I leave?” “Oh, no,” cried everybody at once, “Anne is so thoroughly one of the family.” “Certainly,” responded Major Harper, bowing though his brows were knit. He waited till Anne took her seat, and then sat down, silent. Many changes, vivid, and various, passed over his flexible mouth. At last, leaning forward, he hid it with his hand. There was a brief hush in the men, of solemnity--in the women, of mourning. More than one tear splashed on the black dress of the tender-hearted Mary. Nathanael stood--the will in his hand--hesitating. “It seems to me, that as this is a family meeting, we might--not necessarily, but still out of kindness and respect--postpone it for a few days, that the only remaining member of the family may be present.” “Who is that?” said the elder brother. “Uncle Brian.” One or two voices, especially the Dugdales, seconded this, and eagerly proposed to wait for Uncle Brian. “Impossible!” Major Harper said, hastily. “I have engagements. I cannot wait for any one.” “But”-- “Nathanael--don't argue. Remember, I am the elder brother. Give me my father's will.” Nathanael paused a moment, and gave it. “The seal has been broken and re-fastened,” Frederick added, breaking it with rather nervous hands. He tried to glance over it, but his eyes wandered unsteadily. “There, take it and read. I hate business.” And he threw himself back in his seat, which happened to be the old Squire's especial chair. Agatha thought it was thoughtless of him to use it. Nathanael read the will aloud. It was dated ten years back, and was in the Squire's own hand, drawn up simply, but with perfect clearness. The division of fortune was as they all expected: a moderate funded sum to each of the daughters and to Nathanael; the estate, with all real and personal property, to go to the eldest son. There were a few small bequests to servants, and one gift of the late Mrs. Harper's jewels.