"I'm sure I hope so," said poor Miss Cassy whimpering, "it's just like a romance of what's-his-name--so very odd; he is good-looking, I know--but money--he's got no money." "I don't want money--I want him." "He's got no name." "He'll make one with his voice." "I'm sure," cried Miss Cassy in despair, "I can't see what you see in him." Una closed the argument in a most decisive manner. "I love him." This remark was unanswerable, so Miss Cassy dissolved in tears. CHAPTER XXVII. THE SQUIRE'S WILL. "How strange a testament is this, my lord? The outcome of a most fantastic brain. 'Tis but a mirror that reflects his life, With all its twists and turns and madcap arguments." Mr. Bolby, the junior partner in the legal firm who had control of the Squire's business, was a little, red-faced man, with a round head set upon an equally round body, which, in its turn, was supported by two short, sturdy legs. His face was clean shaven, save for two little tufts of white hair, which stood out on each cheek in startling contrast to the crimson of his complexion, and his baldish head was sparsely scattered over with similar tufts. He dressed in a somewhat gay manner, and had a loud, cheerful voice of a chirpy nature, also a curious habit of using the same words twice over in different ways. On arriving from London at the Grange he was handed the Squire's keys by Una, and at once proceeded to look over all the private papers of the dead man. Evidently he had some object in doing so, for he never rested until he had looked through every document in the desk, and having made himself master of the precise state of affairs, rested quietly until the day of the funeral, varying the monotony of this somewhat dreary life by paying frequent visits to the vicarage, where he had several lively arguments with Dr. Larcher on archæological subjects. At last the day of the funeral arrived, and the dead man was borne with great pomp to the ancestral vault in Garsworth Church, where numerous generations of the family had already mouldered for many centuries. Some of the county families came to the funeral, but most of them sent their carriages to represent them, as Randal Garsworth, owing to his secluded life, had been by no means popular, and they only came themselves or sent their representatives from a sense of courtesy.