"I am so sorry for it, Phoebe, dear," said Rhoda, who was always at her best under the pressure of trial. "But never you mind--you shall have it. I'll make it up to you." Rhoda now naturally assumed the responsibility of mistress, and gave orders that no visitor should be admitted excepting the Vicar and Mr Welles. The evening brought the latter gentleman, who had apparently spent the interval in arraying himself in faultless mourning. "I am so grieved, my charmer!" exclaimed Mr Marcus Welles, dropping on one knee, and lifting Rhoda's hand to his lips. "Words cannot paint my distress on hearing of your sorrow. Had I been a bird, I would have flown to offer you consolation. Pray do not dim your bright eyes, my fair. 'Tis but what happens to all, and specially in old age. Old folks must die, you know, dearest Madam; and, after all, did they not, young folks would find them very often troublesome. But you have now no one over you, and you see your slave at your feet." And with a most unexceptionable bow, Mr Marcus gently possessed himself of Rhoda's fan, wherewith he began fanning her in the most approved manner. It occurred to Phoebe that if the gentleman's grief had been really genuine, it was doubtful whether his periods would have been quite so polished. Rhoda's sorrow, while it might prove evanescent, was honest while it lasted: and had been much increased by the extreme suddenness of the calamity. "I thank you, Sir," she said quietly. "And I am sure you will be grieved to hear that my grandmother died just too soon to make that provision she intended for my cousin. So the lawyer has told us this morning. You will not, I cannot but think, oppose my wish to give her what it was meant that she should have." "Dearest Madam!" and Mr Welles' hand went to his heart, "you cannot have so little confidence in me as to account it possible that I could oppose any wish of yours!" Engaged persons did not, at that time, call each other by the Christian name. It would have been considered indecorous. "I was sure, Sir, you would say no less," answered Rhoda. CHAPTER TEN. MR. WELLES DOES IT BEAUTIFULLY. "Thy virtues lost, thou would'st not look Me in thy chains to hold? Know, friend, thou verily hast lost Thy chiefest virtue--gold." Nine o'clock on the Monday morning was the hour appointed for reading Madam's will. When Rhoda and Phoebe, in their deep mourning, entered the parlour, they were startled to find the number of persons already assembled. Not only all the household and outdoor servants, but all the inmates of the Maidens' Lodge, excepting Mrs Marcella, and several others, stood up to receive the young ladies as they passed on to the place reserved for them. Mr Dawson handed the girls to their places, and then seated himself at the table, and proceeded to unfold a large parchment.