"No; his eyes looked a little queer, and I noticed his hand felt cold, but he would not listen to me when I pressed him to have some hot elder wine. I do believe he was quite in a maze with astonishment and being taken so aback, poor young man." "Thank you for telling me all," Queenie said very quietly, as she stood up and drew on her gloves. Little Jane's sore throat was quite forgotten; she was rather pale, and her lips trembled slightly as she spoke, but there was no trace of excitement in her manner. "And you are not vexed with me, my dear." "Oh, no, I am not vexed; it may all be for the best, you know." Her brief wrath had vanished. Who could long be angry with Miss Cosie, with her gentle little mouse-face and tender-hearted ways? she was not to blame, surely, for this strange sinking of heart, for these uneasy fears. Something must have happened to the Spring sun-light, it was so much less radiant as she crossed the threshold of the Vicarage, a little of the glory and freshness had died out of it somehow. "Can he really be angry with me? I feel I cannot bear this suspense a moment longer, I must know the worst at once. Ah! is it possible?" and a slight trembling passed over the girl's frame, for there was Garth Clayton coming up the Vicarage lane, and in another moment they would meet face to face. Miss Cosie had not been wrong in her account of Garth's utter bewilderment the previous night, the news had simply stunned him. He had gathered up his scattered forces, and had wished them good night, and then he had gone home straight to Langley. A sudden craving for sisterly sympathy had taken possession of him; he must find some outlet for the bitterness that was in him. He was battling bravely with untoward circumstance, but this fresh misfortune that had overtaken him had deprived him temporarily of all courage. That the sweetness of the hope within him should be so utterly quenched! oh, it was hard, terribly hard. Langley looked up a little startled as he threw himself into his easy-chair. The old care-worn expression had returned again, he looked pale and moody. "Is there anything wrong; is it about Harry?" she faltered, for the poor soul had been occupied that evening with her own troubles, and was full of fears that needed tranquillizing. "Wrong! oh, no! Won't you sit down and write a note of congratulation to Miss Marriott; and won't you say something very nice and kind from us both, Langley? One does not come into a fortune every day, and of course she would wish to be congratulated," and then with a sort of enforced quietness he told her all that he had lately heard at the Vicarage; and when he had finished Langley's face wore a look of great perplexity. "Stop a minute, Garth. I don't think I quite understand. Are you sure that you have told me rightly; that Mr. Calcott has left all his money to Miss Marriott, and that she and Emmie are rich, and have secretly lent us all this money?"