The funeral party walked back to the house, where for the first time for seventy years there was a table spread. All were there--the ancient lady, daughter of the dead man, stately with her black silk and laces, with the bearing of a Duchess, leaning on the arm of her grand-nephew; the two grandsons, Fred and Christopher; the wife and children of the latter; Mr. Samuel Galley and Mary Anne his sister; and Constance, great-grandniece of the deceased. With them came the agent, a solicitor from the neighbouring town. After luncheon the agent produced the Will. “This Will,” he said, “was drawn up by my great-grandfather in the year 1826, exactly one month after the tragic event which so weighed upon his client’s mind.” “Was he in his right mind?” asked Sam, turning very red. “I ask the question without prejudice.” “Sir, he was always in his right mind. He would not speak, but on occasion he would write. He was never, down to the very end, in any sense out of his mind. I have letters and instructions from him year after year for seventy years--my firm has acted for this family for a hundred years--which will establish his complete sanity should that be questioned.” “Well, the Will,” said Sam. “Let’s get to the Will.” “I will read the Will.” For the will of a rich man, it was comparatively short; there was in it, however, a clause which caused Leonard to glance curiously and inquiringly at Constance. “I don’t understand,” said Sam. “There’s something left to me----” “No, sir--to your grandmother. To you, nothing.” “It’s the same thing. What is hers is mine.” “No,” said the lady concerned, stiffly. “You will find, my grandson, that you are mistaken.” “Well,” said Sam, disconcerted, “anyhow, you’ve got a share. What I want to know is the meaning of that clause about somebody’s heirs. What have they got to do with it?” “Perhaps,” said Leonard, “you might kindly explain the Will.” “Certainly. The testator had at the time of making his will a certain amount of personal property to bequeath. The property consisted partly of invested moneys, chiefly his mother’s fortune. As he was an only child, the whole of this personal property came to him. Partly it consisted of a town-house in Berkeley Square, also part of his mother’s property not entailed, and his pictures, his library, and his furniture, carriages, horses, etc. The latter part he has bequeathed to the heir of the Campaigne estate--to you, Mr. Leonard. The former part, consisting of the invested moneys, he bequeathes to his three children in equal portions. As the second child was drowned and left no heirs, this money will be divided equally between the elder son and the daughter--you, Mrs. Galley; and as the elder son is dead, his heirs will receive the money shared between them.” “With all the Accumulations!” cried Sam. “Ah!” with a long, long breath of relief.