"Send your trap home and walk up the hill with me," he suggested, and she fell in with his wish very readily. They crossed the foot-bridge together. "I've just been writing to ask my relations to the funeral," he said. "At my mother's wish, not mine. Only two of them--and I never saw them in my life." "I shouldn't think you'd cultivate your relations much." "No. But Cecily Gainsborough ought to come, I suppose. She's my heir." Mina turned to him with a gesture of interest or surprise. "Your heir?" she said. "You mean----?" "I mean that if I died without having any children, she'd succeed me. She'd be Lady Tristram in her own right, as my mother was." He faced round and looked at Blent. "She's never been to the place or seen it yet," he added. "How intensely interested she'll be!" "I don't see why she should," said Harry rather crossly. "It's a great bore having her here at all, and if I'm barely civil to her that's all I shall manage. They won't stay more than a few days, I suppose." After a second he went on: "Her mother wouldn't know my mother, though after her death the father wanted to be reconciled." "Is that why you dislike them so?" "How do you know I dislike them?" he asked, seeming surprised. "It's pretty evident, isn't it? And it would be a good reason for disliking the mother anyhow." "But not the daughter?" "No, and you seem to dislike the daughter too--which isn't fair." "Oh, I take the family in the lump. And I don't know that what we've been talking of has anything to do with it." He did not seem inclined to talk more about the Gainsboroughs, though his frown told her that something distasteful was still in his thoughts. What he had said was enough to rouse in her a great interest and curiosity about this girl who was his heir. Questions and rights attracted her mind very little till they came to mean people; then she was keen on the track of the human side of the matter. The girl whom he chose to call his heir was really the owner of Blent! "Are you going to ask us to the funeral?" she said. "I'm not going to ask anybody. The churchyard is free; they can come if they like." "I shall come. Shall you dislike my coming?" "Oh, no." He was undisguisedly indifferent and almost bored. "And then I shall see Cecily Gainsborough." "Have a good look at her. You'll not have another chance--at Blent anyhow. She'll never come here again." She looked at him in wonder, in a sort of fear. "How hard you are sometimes," she said. "The poor girl's done nothing to you." He shook his head impatiently and came to a stand on the road. "You're going back? Good-by, Lord Tristram." "I'm not called that till after the funeral," he told her, looking as suspicious as he had in the earliest days of their acquaintance. "And will you let me go on living at Merrion--or coming every summer anyhow?" "Do you think of coming again?" "I want to," she answered with some nervousness in her manner. "And Major Duplay?" He smiled slightly.