Little did that fond old lady dream of the pain and shame which that legacy of jewels would bring upon the fair girl whom she so loved. CHAPTER V STAKED AND LOST That night Miss Mehetabel died suddenly of heart disease. How the next few days passed Brownie never knew, but it was all over at last. There were no near relatives, only some distant cousins, and these, knowing they had no claim upon the old lady’s money, did not deem it worth their while to come to the funeral. So Brownie and Aspasia, who had proved herself a real comfort in these days of trial, sat alone, excepting the servants and a few intimate acquaintances, in those great somber rooms, while those last sad words were spoken above the dead. And then they carried her forth to her last long home, and laid her beside those other dear ones, who had been gone so many years. It seemed to Brownie as if she were almost the only one living—as if all the world had died and were buried, when she returned to that great house in all its lonely splendor. “Oh, Aspasia,” she cried, throwing herself into Miss Huntington’s arms, with her first wild burst of tears, “What shall I do? I have nobody in the world now to love me.” “Don’t talk so, darling,” she said, her own tears flowing in sympathy. “I love you better than any one else in the world, and I will never forsake you.” She little knew how soon her words would be put to the test. “I know you love me, dear, but you cannot stay with me; you will soon go home, where you have a fond father and mother, brothers and sisters, while I have no one. I have no object in life, Aspasia, now that auntie is gone,” and again the torrent of grief rushed forth. Miss Huntington made her lie down, and soothed her as she would a child. With her own dainty hands she removed her boots, brought a soft pair of slippers and put them on, then bathed her head, and worked over her until she grew calm again. Their conversation was interrupted by a servant coming to tell them that Miss Douglas’ presence was required in the library to listen to the reading of the will. The summons made the poor girl’s grief burst forth afresh. “Oh, auntie, auntie!” she sobbed, “your money will be nothing to me without you—gold without love is worthless.” “You will go down with me, Aspasia,” she said, holding out her hand to her friend as she arose to obey the request. “Certainly, dear, if you wish,” was the kind reply, and the two friends descended to the library, to find Miss Mehetabel’s lawyer, the family doctor, and clergyman awaiting their appearance. Brownie greeted them with a graceful inclination of her head, then seated herself to await their business. Rev. Mr. Ashley approached and took her hand.