"You can give it me," said Dr. Davenal. "I don't promise to take it." "It might be the better for you if you would," was the reply. "My advice is, say nothing to the Stephensons, or to any one else, today. This is a very strange resolution that you have expressed, and I beg you to sleep upon it. A night's rest may serve to change your mind." The lawyer departed. It was close upon the hour for Dr. Davenal to receive his indoor patients, and he could not go out then. He went to look for his daughter, and found her in the garden parlour with her aunt. It was not often that Miss Bettina troubled that room--she had been wont to tell Sara and Caroline that its litter set her teeth on edge. They began to talk to him of the funeral. It was natural they should do so. In a country place these somewhat unusual occurrences of everyday life are made much of. Miss Bettina was curious. "Were the people from Thorndyke there?" she asked. "Sir Philip and his eldest son." "And Oswald Cray?" "Of course. He came down on purpose." "My goodness! And so they met! How did they behave, Richard?" "Just as the rest of us behaved. Did you suppose they'd start a quarrel?" "I was sure of it. I knew they would never meet without starting one. Nothing less could come of Oswald Cray's proud spirit and the manner they have treated him." "At sea as usual, Bettina. Do you think they'd quarrel _there?_--on that solemn occasion? Oswald Cray and Sir Philip are proud enough, both of them; but they are _gentlemen_--you forget that, Bettina. I think Oswald Cray is about the least likely man to quarrel that I know, whether with Sir Philip or with anybody else. Your proud man washes his hands of people whom he despises; but he does not quarrel with them." How singularly true were the words in regard to Oswald Cray! It was as though Dr. Davenal had worn in that moment the gift of prevision; "Your proud man washes his hands of people whom he despises." "And how is her money left?" continued Miss Bettina. "To the Stephensons?" "No, she has not made a just will. It is left to----to a stranger. A stranger in blood." "Indeed! To whom? I hope _you_ have been remembered with some little token Richard?" "To be sure I have been. You know those two splendid diamond rings of hers: I have one, Oswald Cray the other. And that's all he has got, by the way, except a silver coffee-pot, or so. Sara, come with me into the garden, I wish to have a little chat with you." "You have not told me who the stranger is," shrieked out Miss Bettina. "I'll tell you by-and-by," called back the doctor. "I did not think it likely she would leave anything to Oswald Cray, papa," Sara remarked, as they paced the garden path. "I think I should, had I been in her place. A matter of five hundred pounds, or so, would have helped him on wonderfully. However, there was no obligation, and it is a question whether Oswald would have accepted it." "You said it was not a just will, papa?"