Monday morning came. At nine o'clock Ella went to her uncle's room, and stayed there for an hour, alone with all that was left on earth of one whom she had so dearly loved. After that she went to her own room, and was seen no more by anyone but her aunt till after the last sad rites were over. Maria Kettle was still from home. She was the one friend whom Ella missed in her affliction. Mr. Daventry, the family lawyer, arrived early at the Hall. With him he brought the Squire's last will and testament. Sir Peter Dockwray and Colonel Townson, the executors, together with a few other old personal friends of Mr. Denison whom it is needless to specify by name, arrived later on. The procession was joined in the park by some thirty or forty carriages belonging to the gentry of the neighbourhood, a few, but only a few, of which were empty. Dr. Jago, as a matter of course, was there, in a brougham hired for the occasion. A special invitation had been sent to Dr. Spreckley, whom Ella could not help regarding in the light of a wronged man. He was touched by a proof of regard so unexpected, but his pride would not let him accept it. He watched the procession from behind the lace curtains of a friend's window with feelings that were half regretful and half bitter. The service was read by the Vicar, the Rev. Francis Kettle. In the church, and afterwards round the grave, in addition to those who had followed the body, was assembled a crowd of quite two hundred people. "He's gone at last, poor old man," was the general comment of these outsiders, "but he lived long enough to get the better of those who would have robbed him of his property." Everyone there knew the stake for which he had played, and everyone was glad that he had won it. And so to their last resting-place, with all due honour and respect, were committed the mortal remains of Gilbert Denison, late master of Heron Dyke. Ella would fain have foregone the, to her, painful ordeal of having to listen to the reading of her uncle's will after the return from the funeral, but Mrs. Carlyon and Mr. Daventry both told her that she ought to be present. And so the company assembled in the great drawing-room, with a few of the upper servants. "We are short of one person," remarked Mr. Daventry, as he glanced round the room. "Whom may that be?" asked Sir Peter Dockwray. "Dr. Spreckley. We will give him five minutes' grace. If he is not here then, we must proceed without him." No one could have been more surprised than Dr. Spreckley was when, upon returning home, after watching the funeral, a note was put into his hands, requesting his presence at Heron Dyke to attend the reading of Mr. Denison's will. What could his presence be wanted for? he asked himself again and again. He had refused to attend the funeral, yet now he was asked to attend the reading of the will! He could not make it out at all: but he went.