to London, with plenty of leisure on her hands for thinking-very likely for doubting and fearing as well. She had not seen her sweetheart, that was one thing. She had been dispatched in a hurry, that was another. And then, to be sure, the big town was strange to her.
"However, nothing happened there, I may tell you. But on the third morning she received a short note from Gwen Madoc, and suddenly rose from breakfast with Mrs. Richard, her face very white. There was news in the letter-news of which all the neighborhood for miles round Court was by that time full. Robert Evans, if you will believe it, was dead. After ailing for a few hours he had died, with only Gwen Madoc to smooth his pillow.
"It was late when she reached the nearest station to Court on her way back, and found a pony trap waiting for her. She was stepping into it when Mr. Griffith Hughes, the lawyer, saw her, and came up to speak.
"'I am sorry to have bad news for you, Miss McNeill,' he said in a low voice, for he was a kind man, and what with the shock and the long journey she was looking very pale.
"'Oh, yes!' she answered, with a sort of weary surprise; 'I know it already. That is why I am come home-to Court, I mean.'
"He saw that she was thinking only of Robert Evans' death, which was not what was in his mind. 'It is about the will,' he said in a whisper, though he need not have been so careful, for everyone in the neighborhood had learned all about it from Gwen Madoc. 'It is a cruel will. I would not have made it for him, my dear. He has left Court to the Llewellyn Evanses, and the money between the Evanses of Nant and the Evan Bevans.'
"'It is quite right,' she answered, so calmly that he stared. 'My grandfather explained it to me. I fully understood that I was not to be in the will.'
"Mr. Hughes looked more and more puzzled. 'Oh, but,' he replied, 'it is not so bad as that. Your name is in the will. He has laid it upon those who get the land and money to provide for you-to settle a proper income upon you. And you may depend upon me for doing my best to have his wishes carried out, my dear.'
"The young lady turned very red, and raised her eyes sharply.
"'Who are to provide for me?' she asked.
"'The three families who divide the estate,' he said.
"'And are they obliged to do so?'
"'Well-no,' said he unwillingly. 'I am not sure that they are exactly obliged. But no doubt-'
"'I doubt very much,' she answered, taking him up with a smile. And then she shook hands with him and drove away, leaving him wondering at her courage.
"Well, you may suppose it was a dreary house to which she came home. Mr. Griffith Hughes, who was executor, had been before the Llewellyn Evanses in taking possession, so that, besides a lad or two in the kitchen, there were only Gwen Madoc and the servant there, and they seemed to have very little to tell her about the death. When she had heard what they had to say, and they were all on their way to bed, 'Gwen,' she said softly, 'I think I should like to see him.'
"'So you shall, to-morrow, honey,' answered the old woman. 'But do you know, bach, that he has left you nothing?' and she held up her candle suddenly, so as to throw the light on the girl's tired face.
"'Oh!' she answered, with a shudder, 'how can you talk about that now?' But presently she had another question ready. 'Have you seen Mr. Venmore since-since my grandfather's death, Gwen?' she asked timidly.
"'Yes, indeed, bach,' answered the housekeeper. 'I met him at the door of the shop this morning. I told him where you were, and that you would be back tonight. And about the will, moreover.'
"The girl stopped at her own door and snuffed her candle. Gwen Madoc went slowly up the next flight, groaning over the steepness of the stairs. Then she turned to say good-night. The girl was at her side again, her eyes shining in the light of the two candles.
"'Oh, Gwen,' she whispered breathlessly, 'didn't he say anything?'
"'Not a word, bach,' answered the old woman, stroking her hair tenderly. 'He just went into the house in a hurry.'
"Miss Peggy went into her room much in the same way. No doubt she would be telling herself a great many times over before she slept that he would come and see her in the morning; and in the morning she would be saying, 'He will come in the afternoon;' and in the afternoon, 'He will come in the evening.' But evening came, and darkness, and still he did not appear. Then she could endure it no longer. She let herself out of the front door, which there was no one now to use but herself, and with a shawl over her head ran all the way down to the shop. There was no light in his window upstairs: but at the back door stood Mrs. Campbell, looking after someone who had just left her.
"The girl came, strangely shrinking at the last moment, into the ring of light about the door. 'Why, Miss McNeill!' cried the other, starting visibly at sight of her. 'Is it you, honey? And are you alone?'
"'Yes; and I cannot stop. But oh, Mrs. Campbell, where is Mr. Venmore?'
"'I know no more than yourself, my dear,' said the good woman reluctantly. 'He went from here yesterday on a sudden-to take the train, I understood.'
"'Yesterday? When? At what time, please?' asked the young lady. There was a fear, which she had been putting from her all day. It was getting a footing now.
"'Well, it would be about midday. I know it was just after Gwen Madoc called in about the-'
"But the girl was gone. It was not to Mrs. Campbell she could make a moan. It was only the night wind that caught the 'Oh, cruel! cruel!' which broke from her as she went up the hill. Whether she slept that night at all I am not able to say. Only that when it was dawn she was out upon the cliffs, her face very white and sad-looking. The fishermen who were up early, going out with the ebb, saw her at times walking fast and then standing still and looking seaward. But I do not know what she was thinking, only I should fancy that the gulls had a different cry for her now, and it is certain that when she had returned and came down into the parlor at Court for the funeral, there were none of the Evanses could look her in the face with comfort.
"They were all there, of course. Mr. Llewellyn Evans-he was an elderly man, with a gray beard like a bird's nest, and very thick lips-was sitting with his wife on the horsehair sofa. The Evanses of Nant, who were young men with lank faces and black hair combed upward, were by the door. The Evan Bevans were at the table; and there were others, besides Mr. Griffith Hughes, who was undoing some papers when she entered.
"He rose and shook hands with her, marking pitifully the dark hollows under her eyes, and inwardly confirming his resolution to get her a substantial settlement. Then he hesitated, looking doubtfully at the others. 'We are going to read the will before the funeral instead of afterward,' he said.
"'Oh!' she answered, taken aback-for in truth she had forgotten all about the will. 'I did not know. I will go, and come back later.'
"'No, indeed!' cried Mrs. Llewellyn Evans, 'you had better stop and hear the will-though no relation, to be sure.'
"But at that moment Gwen Madoc came in, and peered round with a grim air of importance. 'Maybe someone,' she said in a low voice, 'would like to take a last look at the poor master?'
"But no one moved. They sighed and shook their heads at one another as if they would like to do so-but no one moved. They were anxious, you see, to hear the will. Only Peggy, who had turned to go out, said, 'Yes, Gwen, I should,' and slipped out with the old woman.
"'There is nothing to keep us now?' said Mr. Hughes briskly when the door was closed again. And everyone nodding assent the lawyer
