Peters had by this time regained her self-command. There was much to do, and it devolved upon her to do it. Her tears must wait for a more convenient season. She was anxious that “all things should be done decently and in order,” and that due respect should be given the dead mistress she had so loved. Her first act then, after arousing Lally and the servants, was to dispatch the footman to the family physician, and to Mr. Harris, Mrs. Wroat’s lawyer. The physician came first. He showed no surprise at the summons, and acknowledged to Peters that he had expected it before. He could only confirm the discovery of Peters that the old lady was dead. The lawyer arrived while the doctor was in the house. Mrs. Wroat had requested that Mr. Harris should assume control of her affairs after her death, and he proceeded to seal her desk and to take charge of her private papers, while he gave directions for the management of the household while the dead should remain in the house. An undertaker was sent for, and all the grim preparations for the sepulture, so terrible to surviving friends, was entered upon. The next morning’s papers contained the obituary notice of Mrs. Maria Wroat, relict of the late John Wroat, banker, with a statement of her age and of the time appointed for the funeral. The next afternoon brought to the door of the mansion in Mount street a cab, from which alighted Mr. and Mrs. Blight of Sandy Lands. They sounded the knocker pompously, ringing the bell at the same moment. The footman hastened to give them admittance. “I see by the morning’s papers that my dear aunt is dead, Toppen,” said the Canterbury lawyer, who was known and detested by Mrs. Wroat’s servants. “Why was I not informed of her dangerous illness?” “Mrs. Wroat died sudden, sir,” answered the man respectfully. “Why was I not telegraphed to immediately upon her death?” “I don’t know, sir. Mr. Harris, he manages the funeral, sir.” “Show us up to our room, Toppen. You are perhaps aware that I am the old lady’s heir? I am the nephew of her deceased husband, who left her a good share of his property. It all comes to me. I shall continue you in my service, Toppen, when I come up to town to live, which will be immediately. But, come. Show us our room.” Toppen hesitated. “Beg pardon, sir,” he said, “but I’ll just speak to Mrs. Peters. Miss Wroat she can’t be disturbed, and I don’t know which room azackly Mrs. Peters intends for you.” “The amber room, of course,” said Mrs. Blight superciliously. “We shall have the best room in the house, whatever Mrs. Peters or any one else may say.” “Miss Wroat has the amber room,” said Toppen. “Miss Wroat!” repeated the lawyer. “And who may Miss Wroat be?” “She is Mrs. Wroat’s young niece, sir, that she fetched home with her from Canterbury. The Missus said we were to call the young lady Miss Wroat. If you’ll walk into the drawing-room, I’ll go for Mrs. Peters.”