“The partisans and opponents of this lady will have a new problem offered to them in the new and startling incident which is now announced as the climax of this story. Those who have all along believed in the disinterestedness of the young and charming Mrs. Piercey will be delighted to hear that she has now presented herself again before the public, in the most romantic and attractive light by freely and of her own will resigning the Manor of Greyshott, to which a jury of her countrymen had decided her to be fully entitled, to the heirs-at-law of the late Sir Giles Piercey, together with all the old furniture, pictures, family plate, etc., contained in the manor house--a gift equally magnificent and unexpected. It is now stated that this has all along been Mrs. Piercey’s intention, and that but for the trial, which put her at once on her defence, she would have made this magnanimous renunciation immediately after coming into the property. Her rights having been assailed, however, it is natural that a high-spirited young woman should have felt it her first duty to vindicate her character; and that she should now carry out her high-minded intention, after all the obloquy which it has been attempted to throw on her, and the base motives imputed to her, is a remarkable instance of magnanimity which, indeed, we know nothing to equal. It is, indeed, heaping coals of fire on the heads of her accusers, for whom, however, it must be said that their irritation in finding themselves so unexpectedly deprived of the inheritance they had confidently expected, was natural and justifiable. It must be a satisfaction to all that a _cause célèbre_ which attracted so much attention should end in such a fine act of restitution, and that an ancient family should thus be restored to their ancestral place. We are delighted to add that Mrs. Piercey, who still retains a fine fortune bequeathed to her by the love and gratitude of her father-in-law, whom she nursed with the greatest devotion till his death, is about to contract a second marriage with a gentleman very well known in the cricketing world.” “In the name of Heaven, what is the meaning of that?” cried old Sir Francis Piercey, who was a choleric old gentleman, flinging down the newspaper (which only arrived in the evening), and turning a crimson countenance, flushed with astonishment and offence, to his son Gerald and his daughter-in-law Margaret, who had returned to their home in the north only a few days before. Sir Francis was a very peppery old man, and constantly thought, as do many heads of houses conscious of having grown a little hard of hearing, that nothing was told him, and that even in respect to the events most interesting to the family he was systematically kept in the dark.