The officer raised his eyes. "Your brother comes in for young King's fortune, Mr. Barley?" "Yes, he does. And I'll be bound he never gave a thought to the inheriting of it. How should he, from a young and hearty lad like Philip? Edwin has croaked over Philip's health of late, said he was consumptive, and going the way of his brother Reginald; but I saw nothing amiss with Philip." "May I ask why you don't inherit, Mr. Barley, being the eldest brother?" "He was no blood relation to me. My father married twice, I was the son of the first wife; Edwin of the second; and Philip King's father and Edwin's mother were cousins. Philip had no male relative living but my brother, therefore he comes in for the estate." Mrs. Edwin Barley appeared at the door, and paused there, as if listening to the conclusion of the last sentence. Mr. Barley turned and saw her, and she came forward. She had twisted up her damp hair, and thrown on a shawl of white China crape. Her eyes were brilliant, her cheeks carmine—beautiful she looked altogether. The officer questioned her as to the cause of the quarrel which she had been present at, but she would give him no satisfactory answer. She "could not remember;" "Philip King was in the wrong, she knew that;" "the officer must excuse her talking, for her head ached, and her brain felt confused." Such was the substance—all, in fact, that he could get from her. He bowed and withdrew, and Mr. Barley followed him downstairs, Selina bolting the door after them. "Now, Anne, I must have a little conversation with you," she said, drawing me to her as she sat on the low ottoman. And I could see that she shivered still. She proceeded to question me of what had occurred after I left her at the summer-house. I told her; and had got to where Philip King was shot, when she interrupted. "Good heavens, child! you _saw_ him shot?" "I heard the noise, and saw him fall. It seemed to come from the spot where he had been gazing." "Did you see who did it?" she asked, scarcely above her breath. "No!" "Then you saw no one about but Philip King?" "I saw Mr. Edwin Barley. He was near the spot from whence the shot seemed to come, looking through the trees and standing still, as if he wondered what could be amiss. For, oh, Selina! Philip King's scream was dreadful, and must have been heard a long way." My aunt caught hold of my arm in a sort of fright. "Anne! what do you say? You saw _Edwin Barley_ at that spot! Not Mr. Heneage?" "I did not see Mr. Heneage at all then. I saw only Mr. Edwin Barley. He came up to Philip King, asking what was the matter." "Had he his gun with him—Edwin Barley?" "Yes, he was carrying it." She dropped my arm, and sat quite still, shrinking as if some blow had struck her. Two or three minutes passed before she spoke again. "Go on, Anne. What next? Tell me all that passed, for I suppose you heard." And I related what I knew, word for word. "You have not told me all, Anne." "Yes, I have."