The lively girl was about to make some reply to her good natured uncle when a light rapping was heard; the door gently opened and a lady about five and thirty entered; she was attired in a dress of black silk of most undeniable Paris cut, which fitted her to a miracle; to Edith she made a slight inclination of the head so as not to disarrange her coiffure which was most elaborately got up doubtless with a view to produce an effect. "I trust, Sir Jasper, you slept well after your tedious journey." "Very well, I thank you. Oh! I see you have the post bag, I am somewhat anxious about some letters I expect to receive." Moving around the back of the Baronet's chair she came between him and Edith, who took the bag from her and held out her hand to her uncle for the key to open it with, as was her usual custom of a morning; the key was handed to her, and while they were thus engaged the eagle eye of the lady in black fell upon the will which was still lying partially exposed on the escritoire just as it had fallen from Sir Jasper's hand ere he had sank into that reverie which had been disturbed by the entrance of Edith; she obtained but a hurried glance, yet it was sufficient for her to decipher its full meaning. As she realized this a dark cloud passed across her features, she moved silently to the window and looked out; when she again turned the cloud had vanished and her face was calm and serene. So occupied with the mail bag had been both uncle and niece that the action of the lady in question, in first glancing over the paper on the desk and her subsequent movement towards the window, had remained unnoticed by either. "There is a letter for you, my dear," said the Baronet handing one to Edith. "Oh!" said she joyously, "it is from Arthur. He is the dearest old fellow, and one of the best correspondents alive; he tells the funniest stories of the college scrapes he gets into, and how cleverly he gets out of them, and makes all manner of fun in his caricatures of the musty old professors." "There, there now, away to your own room," said her uncle, "and let me know what new scrape your dear old fellow has been getting in and out of, during our walk after dinner." Edith blushed slightly and hurried out of the apartment. "There are no letters for you this morning, Mrs. Fraudhurst, but here are the London papers, I have no time at present to look over them, and would feel obliged if you would lay them on the library table." She took them, and with a graceful courtesy, smilingly left the room, and went direct to the library, sat down at the table and drew the writing materials towards her as if about to write; but ere she commenced her head sank on her hand and she appeared to be, for some moments, lost in thought. As she will be brought prominently forward as our story progresses, we had better inform the reader at once, all we know of her antecedents.