"Well, he does. Will read at half-past eleven at night on the tenth day after the old man's death. It is absurd. Ah, well, I suppose a millionaire has a right to be eccentric, if he likes." "Dear Katrine, he was always so good." "Good! Bah! What did he ever do for me? He hated my branch of the family, and our Creole blood. As if the D'Enghiens were not a fine old French family before the Capels were heard of." "But Katrine--" "I will speak. I was dragged here to be present at this mummery, to have for my share a hundred pounds to buy mourning, and I vow I'll spend it in Chinese mourning, and wear yellow instead of black. Why don't those men come up instead of sitting smoking in that dining-room and leaving us alone in this mausoleum of a place? Here, ring, and send for them; I'm getting nervous, too. I'm catching it from you--weak little baby that you are." At that moment the door opened, and the two young men entered to go up to them, both speaking to Lydia, and then drawing their chairs nearer to Katrine. "Are you nearly ready for the play, Mr Capel?" she said, after a time. "The play!" he exclaimed. "Yes; the curtain will rise directly. How do you feel, Gerard?" "Oh, I don't know. I want to hear how many chips the old boy has left me. Deuced glad to get out of this tomb. I say, would you mind me lighting a cigar?" "I don't mind," said Katrine, lightly. "Would you mind, Miss Lawrence?" "Mind--your smoking--here?" said Lydia hastily. "I--I don't think I should, but--" "No, no," said Capel; "it is impossible. For heaven's sake, pay a little respect to the ladies, if you cannot to the dead." Artis started to his feet. "Look here, Paul Capel," he cried angrily; "you have taken upon yourself several times since I have been locked-up here with you to use confoundedly offensive language to me. How dare you speak to me like that?" "Dare?" cried Capel, rising. "Pooh!" he ejaculated, throwing himself back, and glancing at Katrine, whose eyes seemed to flash with eager pleasure, while Lydia half rose, with extended hands; "I am forgetting myself." Lydia sank back with a sigh, while Katrine's eyes flashed, and her lip curled. "Forgetting yourself!" cried Artis. "By Jove, sir, you've done nothing else! I suppose you expect to have all the old man's money, but we shall see." "Don't be alarmed, Miss Lawrence," said Capel, smiling. "I am not going to quarrel. Ah, here is Mr Girtle." The door opened, and Charles entered, with two more lighted candles, one in each hand, preceding Mr Girtle, who came in bearing a large tin deed box. This he slowly proceeded to place upon the carpet beside a small table, on which Charles deposited the candlesticks.