“It is best,” said Wingfold. “We cannot say anything would be best, but we must say everything is best.” “I think I understand you,” said Richard. “But oh how I would have loved him if he would have let me!” “And how you will love him!” said Wingfold, “for he will love you. They are getting him ready to let you now. I think he is loving you in the darkness. He had begun to love you long before he went. But he was the slave of the nature he had enfeebled and corrupted. I hope endlessly for him--though God only knows how long it may take, even after the change is begun, to bring men like him back to their true selves.--But surely, Richard,” he cried, bethinking himself, and pulling up his ponies, “your right place is at Mortgrange--at least so long as what is left of your father is lying in the house!” “Yes, no doubt I and I did think whether I ought not to assert myself, and remain until my father's will was read; but I concluded it better to avoid the possibility of anything unpleasant. I cannot of course yield my right to be chief mourner. I think my father would not wish me to do so.” “I am sure he would not.--Then, till the funeral, you will stay with us!” concluded the parson, as he drove on. “No, I thank you,” answered Richard: “I must be at my grandfather's. I will go there when I have seen Barbara.” On the day of the funeral, no one disputed Richard's right to the place he took, and when it was over, he joined the company assembled to hear the late baronet's will. It was dated ten years before, and gave the two estates of Mortgrange and Cinqmer to his son, Arthur Lestrange There was in it no allusion to the possible existence of a son by his first wife. Richard rose. The lawyer rose also. “I am sorry, sir Richard,” he said, “that we can find no later will. There ought to have been some provision for the support of the title.” “My father died suddenly,” answered Richard, “and did not know of my existence until about five years ago.” “All I can say is, I am very sorry.” “Do not let it trouble you,” returned Richard. “It matters little to me; I am independent.” “I am very glad to hear it. I had imagined it otherwise.” “A man with a good trade and a good education must be independent!” “Ah, I understand!--But your brother will, as a matter of course--. I shall talk to him about it. The estate is quite equal to it.” “The estate shall not be burdened with me,” said Richard with a smile. “I am the only one of the family able to do as he pleases.” “But the title, sir Richard!” “The title must look after itself. If I thought it in the smallest degree dependent on money for its dignity, I would throw it in the dirt. If it means anything, it means more than money, and can stand without it. If it be an honour, please God, I shall keep it honourable. Whether I shall set it over my shop, remains to be considered.--Good morning!”