"Mamma says it will be Scarborough," observed Emily, following out the train of thought she had been pursuing while Sir Harry read his letter. "She shall go there for a month, and get to Heneage Grange for Christmas. Ethel goes with her of course, and so shall I. Alfred also; she has been inviting him. And you, Anne—where do you go?" I could not tell. I had neither money nor friends. Except the Miss Barlieus. "Where are you going, Anne? Don't you hear me?" she cried, with some impatience. "Even if mamma remained at Chandos, _you_ could not, under the same roof with Harry. It would be out of all precedent, you know. The world _would_ talk." "Wouldn't it?" put in Sir Harry. But I thought he was laughing at her. "Where are you to be married? I mean, from whose house?" she asked, looking straight at me. "From—Miss Barlieu's," I suggested, humbly, feeling now very humble my share of everything was altogether. Emily gave a scream. "From Miss Barlieu's! Sir Harry Chandos take his wife from _them?_ Well, you have notions of things, Anne Hereford. You ought to be married from Keppe-Carew." "There is no one at Keppe-Carew now. Arthur Carew is a boy at school." "Oh well, I wash my hands of it," said Emily; "I suppose mamma will have to arrange it all. Look here, Anne; I mean to be a frequent visitor at Chandos, so I give you fair warning." It was on my lips to say she would be always welcome, when Sir Harry spoke: telling her she might probably find that mamma _had_ arranged it; all that was necessary to be arranged. She flew upstairs to ask, and Sir Harry turned to me. Oh, what wonderful news he had to tell! That old saying I spoke of but a few pages back was nothing to it. I sat and listened as one in a vast maze—and when Sir Harry showed me the letter, I read it twice over, as he had done, before knowing whether or not to believe it. Mr. Edwin Barley had made over to me the amount of money left by Selina, with the full interest thereon at five per cent, up to the present date. He frankly stated that the mystery of the lost will had now been cleared up: it had been (contrary to his own opinion) abstracted, and, as he found, burnt. He did not give any hint as to the culprit; with all his sins, he was too much of a gentleman to do that: I could acknowledge it now that my prejudices were partially removed: but we felt sure (and knew it later) that it was Charlotte Delves. This money he had caused to be settled on me to my exclusive use and benefit. He informed Sir Harry that the first instalment of the half-yearly interest was waiting to be drawn by me. "So you are an heiress, after all," said Sir Harry, laughing. "You can buy your wedding dress." But I did not laugh. I was thinking how I had misjudged Mr. Edwin Barley. I had thought him so hard and unjust a man! Hard, he might be: but strictly just. "I should like to write and thank him."