"I was, myself," he said, "more surprised and hurt than I can tell you that for some months before my old friend's death I was denied all access to him--I, who had been in the habit of calling at the Hall at least once a fortnight, ay, and oftener, for the last twenty years. When I found myself rebuffed one time after another, I could hardly believe that it was the Squire's own personal wish that I should not see him, although they assured me it was so. Old Aaron would usher me into a room with as much politeness as he was in the habit of showing to anybody, and would take in my message. Back he would come; or else Dr. Jago, or that sly-looking, smooth-tongued nurse, or perhaps Hubert Stone. But, no matter who came, each had the same tale to tell. The Squire had had a worse night than usual, or he was asleep, or he was too weak to-day to see anyone; whatever the excuse might be, I was never allowed to see him. It was the source of very considerable pain to me at the time, and I expressed myself rather strongly about it in my letters to Maria." "There _must_ have been something in all this--don't you think so, sir?" returned Ella. "Something to conceal." "It seems like it, my dear; it used to seem like it to me. But I do not see what it could be; and I am sure I cannot imagine anything that could tend to peril your inheritance." "Nor I," said Ella, "I wish I could. I mean I wish I could see any solution by which these doubts could be set at rest. The will was quite in order; Mr. Daventry tells me so----" "Having been drawn up by Mr. Daventry, you may be sure of that, my dear," interrupted the Vicar. "The only one thing, he says, that could possibly render it invalid, is my uncle having died before his birthday," continued Ella. "And we know he did not die before it. He lived nearly a month after it." "I--suppose--he--did live?" spoke Ella, with much hesitation. "Did live!" echoed the Vicar, in surprise. "Why of course he did. People saw him and spoke with him. Don't you know that the other Mr. Denison's lawyer and his clerk came to the Hall two or three days subsequently to the Squire's birthday, and had an interview with him?--saw him; conversed with him. How could they have done that had he not been living? The Squire went into one of his passions, it was said, dashed his beef-tea, cup and all, into the fire, and abused the lawyer to his face." Ella could not help a smile. "Yes," she said, "I was told of that." "Then, what else is there to fear? For anyone to come to you and say that if certain facts were known to the world you would not be mistress of Heron Dyke, seems to me sheer nonsense--if not malice. Were I in your place, my dear Miss Winter, I should certainly trouble myself no further in the matter." Ella shook her head. "All these arguments seem so cogent, so true--and yet I cannot feel satisfied. I am at a loss to know what more to do."