“And why not,” replied Kennedy; “who had a betther right to dispose of his property than the man that owned it? and, indeed, if any one livin' desarved it from another, Miss Alice did from him. She nearly brought herself to death's door, in attending upon and nursing her sister, as she called poor Miss Agnes; and, as for her grief at her death, I never saw anything like it, except “--he added, looking at the unfortunate widow--“where there was blood relationship.” “Well, upon my sowl,” observed another, “I can't blame the Lindsays for feeling so bittherly about it as they do. May I never see yestherday, if a brother of mine had property, and left it to a stranger instead of to his own--that is to say, my childre--I'd take it for granted that he was fizzen down stairs for the same. It was a shame for the ould sinner to scorn his own relations for a stranger.” “Well,” said another, “one thing is clear--that since he did blink them about the property, it couldn't get into betther hands. Your master, Tom, is the crame of a good landlord, as far as his property goes, and much good may it do him and his! I'll go bail that, as far as Miss Alice herself is consarned, many a hungry mouth, will be filled many a naked back covered, and many a heavy heart made light through the manes of it.” “Faith,” said a third spokesman, “and that wouldn't be the case if that skinflint barge of Lindsay's had got it in her clutches. At any rate, it's a shame for her and them to abuse the Goodwins as they do. If ould Hamilton left it to them surely it wasn't their fault.” “Never mind,” said another, “I'll lay a wager that Mrs. Lindsay's son--I mane the step-son that's now abroad with the uncle---will be sent for, and a marriage will follow between him and Miss Goodwin.” “It maybe so,” replied Tom, “but it's not very probable. I know the man that's likely to walk into the property, and well worthy he is of it.” “Come, Tom, let us hear who is the lucky youth?” “Family saicrets,” replied Tom, “is not to be rovaled. All I can say is, that he is a true gentleman. Give me another blast o' the pipe, for I must go home.” Tom, who was servant to Mr. Goodwin, having now taken his “blast,” wished them good-night; but before he went he took the sorrowing widow's cold and passive hand in his, and said, whilst the tears stood in his eyes, “May God in heaven pity you and support your heart, for you are the sorely tried woman this miserable night!” He then bent his steps to Beech Grove, his master's residence, the hour being between twelve and one o'clock.