Arthur Tressalia died when his son Paul was only three years of age, and his grandmother, the marquis’ sister, two years afterward. The old marquis’ will, before referred to, had entailed his estates in a very peculiar and rather perplexing way. They were to descend to the eldest _legitimate_ child of each generation, be it son or daughter. In case it should be a daughter, it was stated that, upon her marriage, her husband would be obliged to assume the family name, and so perpetuate the race. In case the eldest child died without issue, or gave birth to an illegitimate child, the entail would be cut off from that branch of the family and revert in the same way to the eldest child. For instance, if the present Marquis of Wycliffe died without legitimate issue, the estates, title, and name would descend to his sister, Mrs. Tressalia, and her legitimate heirs, according to the provisions of the will. In the event of an utter failure of legitimate issue, the estates would fall to the crown, and the personal property to the enrichment of several public charitable institutions mentioned in the will. The Marquis of Wycliffe, at the time we speak of in the beginning of the chapter, had one child, a daughter, sixteen years of age. He had not married until long after his sister, having been disappointed by a heartless coquette when quite a young man, before coming into his property, and for many years he could not endure the thought of marriage. But he had at length wedded a gentle, lovable girl of good family, and she had given birth to this little daughter, and no more children were granted them. It had been a great disappointment to the marquis that this child was not a son; but the little Marion Vance was a very beautiful and charming little piece of humanity, although exceedingly high-spirited and wilful, as will be seen ere long. Her mother had died when she was only twelve years of age, after which she was left to the care of a not too conscientious governess, who enjoyed her own ease and reading French novels more than she did the training of her wild and rebellious pupil. Thus the motherless girl was left to come up pretty much after her own will, and it is not so much to be wondered at that, with no wise and tender hand to guide, no warning voice to chide, counsel, and direct, her future should be planted with thorns, and that the life which gave promise in its budding of so much beauty and joy should, in the blooming, be marred and blighted by grave and fatal mistakes. During the summer of Marion Vance’s sixteenth year the marquis permitted her to visit some distant relatives of the family living at Rye, near the sea, in South Sussex County. These relatives consisted of father, mother, and four gay, blooming daughters, the latter as full of fun and mischief as the day is long; and no one was ever known, up to this time, to visit the Surrey mansion and go away without regretting the bright days that had flown all too quickly.