Her father took her babe to his bosom and led her to her own room, where he made her lie down on her bed and placed the child beside her. The rector went to his study and wrote a letter to the steward at Engelwode, telling him what had happened. Then he walked over to Haymore Hall to carry the news to Mr. Randolph Hay and to confer with him on what was next to be done. Ran and Judy were both shocked and grieved at the fate of their enemy—their enemy, however, only in so far as he tried to wrong them primarily with the wish to benefit himself rather than to injure them. “The remains should be taken to Engelwode Castle and placed in the family vault, of course,” said the rector. “And as the last earl died without having had time to make a will between his succession and his death, my granddaughter, the little countess, will be a ward in chancery.” “And no doubt the lord chancellor will constitute you, sir, the guardian of her person and a trustee of her estate,” added Ran. “Perhaps—most likely, indeed; in which case they will associate some other reliable man with me in the onerous charge. And I should like you to be that man, Hay,” pleaded the parson. “With pleasure; if the lord chancellor will appoint me,” answered Ran. “Is Jennie much distressed, sir?” inquired Judy, sympathetically. “Yes, madam. She is very much agitated.” “May I go to her? Could I do her any good?” “I feel sure you could. I should feel very grateful to you.” Judy hurried into the house and got her wraps, and came out to join the rector in his walk homeward. At the rectory door they were met by Mrs. Campbell, who, after very gravely saluting Judy and thanking her for coming, turned to the rector and inquired: “What was all that the wretched man was rambling about in his last hour? Was there any foundation of truth in it?” “It was all truth, Hetty, from foundation rock—to carry out your simile—to capping stone; and baby Essie is now Countess of Engelmeed in her own right and a ward in chancery.” “Well, well, well! She doesn’t know it—Jennie, I mean, of course. She thinks he was out of his head.” “Yes, I saw she did; but it is true,” said the rector, as they entered the house. A week later the remains of the last Earl of Engelmeed were laid in the vault of his forefathers, amid all “The pride, pomp and circumstance” of funeral parade. After the ceremonies the rector, with his wife, daughter and grandchild, returned to the rectory, where they were all to live during the minority of the infant countess. Ran and Judy came back to their beloved home, but had scarcely got settled there when they received letters announcing the speedy arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Cleve Stuart, with their children and a friend—Mr. O’Melaghlin, of Arghalee, in Antrim. “I wonder who he is,” pondered Ran, as he took the letter over to the rectory to show it to Mr. Campbell.