Gregory, as he grasped it, experienced a feeling of real gratification. He knew that this was a truly good man, and that his course towards Sophy was in no way altered by the fact of her being an heiress, but because she had been forgiven by his old friend Mr. Harmer, and for the sake of the many years of affectionate intercourse he had had with herself. He was gratified, too, by what the Doctor had said respecting himself, for the countenance and friendship of a good man can be appreciated even by the worst character. And so Robert Gregory took his leave of Dr. Ashleigh and returned to town with a softened, although exultant heart. The Doctor then went over to Harmer Place and saw the sisters. They passed most of their time in their own rooms, engaged in earnest prayer for the benefit of their brother's soul; and once, when the Doctor had been there, they spoke to him in glowing terms of the power which their church possessed to forgive all sins, even the greatest. While they thus spoke their eyes lit up with a strange, passionate fervour of religious zeal—that fierce, burning zeal, which has for so many centuries made men equally ready to martyrize others or to die martyrs themselves—that zeal which has led some to give up all worldly goods, and live the life of wandering beggars, and others to allow no scruple to interfere with any deed which can enrich and benefit the church to which they belong. To these remarks Dr. Ashleigh returned no answer; he was at all times indisposed to enter into religious arguments, and with women in the exalted state of mind in which the Misses Harmer were, it would have been worse than useless. On this occasion, however, he found them both in a calmer state, and he mentioned to them that he had seen Robert Gregory, and that he spoke of coming up on the part of his wife after the funeral. For a minute or so they were silent, and then Miss Harmer said, with stern vehemence,—
"Let him come—I presume it is his right; but never again while I live shall the murderer of my brother darken this door."
The Doctor half smiled at the idle threat, while Angela Harmer glanced up at her sister from under her drooping eyelids.
"I should, perhaps, rather say," Miss Harmer corrected herself, "as long as I am in this house; if he enter, I leave it. Harmer Place shall never hold together for one day the sisters of Herbert Harmer and his murderers."
The Doctor was silent, for he thought that what she said would certainly turn out correct, for he did not deem it probable that Robert Gregory, when he came into possession, was at all the man to invite the two Misses Harmer to take up their abode with him.
The next night Dr. Ashleigh did not return to Ramsgate. Harry was to arrive by the late train from the North, and after the funeral they were to go down to Ramsgate, where it was arranged they should stop for a week or two. After that, as we should be well able to afford it, papa had settled to go on to the Continent for the winter with me.
Accordingly, the next day Herbert Harmer was laid in his grave in the quiet churchyard of Sturry. Agreeably to Miss Harmer's wishes, the funeral was celebrated with a pomp which he who had gone had never desired for himself while alive. The hearse and mourning-coaches, each with their four horses and tossing feathers, the man in front with the tray of sable plumes, the mutes in long array—all was done in the best style, and people came in from quite a long distance to see it. A good many of his old Canterbury friends sent their carriages to join the procession, but there were not many real mourners among those who followed. The first mourning-coach contained Dr. Ashleigh, his son, and the solicitor, who had arrived just as the cortège was starting; the other coaches contained the principal tenants, who had liked their late landlord, and who had always found him compliant and kind in the extreme; they had, however, very seldom seen him, as since his son's death he had gone very little himself among his tenants, although he had always kept himself well informed concerning the affairs of each of them. As the procession wound through the village many a blessing and prayer was murmured for the dead man; there, indeed, he had been a benefactor; many a sick bed, many an aching heart had his bounty relieved; and they blessed his memory, blessed him as thousands had done before them—thousands lying in agony in London hospitals, some never to go out again alive, many more to be restored in health and strength to their families; these had poured out countless prayers for the unknown benefactor who had endowed this ward, added that comfort, or whose munificent donations had enabled the hospital largely to extend its benefits; and doubtless their prayers were not the less heard that no name was uttered, and that they went up for their unknown friend.
And so Herbert Harmer slept the sleep of the blessed in the quiet churchyard, and the funeral cortège went back to Harmer Place.
The doctor had been much affected by the service over his old friend. Harry, too, was much moved, but in his case it was more the thought of the grave he had last stood beside, and her over whom he had heard the service read two months before.
Mr. Petersfield, the solicitor, was calm. With him it was a pure matter of business. He had hardly ever seen the dead man; he knew him only as one of the wealthiest and most eccentric of his clients; he had heard from his partner that he was a man of sterling worth; but Mr. Ransome had always managed Mr. Harmer's business, and he himself knew nothing about it. Mr. Ransome had died six months before, and it would have been his duty, in a short time, to have made himself thoroughly acquainted with Mr. Harmer's affairs; as it was, he knew very little about them.
During the short ride to and from the church there was hardly a word exchanged in the carriage, as Dr. Ashleigh was an entire stranger to the solicitor. When they reached the house they were shown into the drawing-room; into which, a few minutes later, Robert Gregory was ushered.
"How is your wife, Mr. Gregory?" the doctor asked, as he shook hands.
"She is very ill, doctor, but I left her certainly calmer and more tranquil, and I trust, from what the medical man said last night, that she will escape any serious attack of brain fever. The news you sent her was a very great consolation to her, but she is still in terribly low spirits."
Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the Misses Harmer, who bowed to Dr. Ashleigh, his son, and the solicitor, all of whom they had seen before, but who took no notice whatever of the presence of Robert Gregory.
The Misses Harmer were accompanied, or rather followed into the room by a gentleman, whom it was easy to see by his dress was an ecclesiastic of the Romish Church, and who was an entire stranger to Dr. Ashleigh.
"This gentleman," Miss Harmer said, introducing him, "is Father Eustace, a friend of ours for many years, and who, having heard of our loss, has come over from abroad to assist and comfort us with his presence and advice."
Father Eustace was a pale, ascetic looking man, with large, eager bright eyes; his complexion was dark and swarthy, and he looked every inch what he was—an Italian. He spoke English with a strong foreign accent, but still grammatically and pretty distinctly. He bowed courteously to those present, and then took his seat, and during what followed occupied himself in closely scrutinizing their countenances, especially those of Dr. Ashleigh and Robert Gregory, as if desirous to judge for himself how nearly they tallied with the description he had received of them.
The Misses Harmer were very pale, but had a quiet, fixed look about them, in which Dr. Ashleigh thought he read their determination to listen with composure to the reading of the will, which would place the hated Robert and Sophy Gregory in the position of master and mistress of Harmer Place.
For some little time after they had taken their seats there was a dead silence, as if each were waiting for the other to begin. At last Mr. Petersfield said—
"With your permission, Miss Harmer, I will at once proceed to read the will of my late client, Mr. Herbert Harmer. Will you be good enough to hand it to me?"
"I have not any will of my brother in my possession," Miss Harmer answered, coldly.
"Not in your possession, madam? But you are doubtless aware where your late brother was
