us to remain and see him. We went into the drawing-room with her, and sat down by the darkening window. There was never any ceremony about the visits of such old friends and neighbours as we were.

We had not sat here many minutes, when Mrs. Markleham, who usually contrived to be in a fuss about something, came bustling in, with her newspaper in her hand, and said, out of breath, “My goodness gracious, Annie, why didn’t you tell me there was some one in the Study?”

“My dear mama,” she quietly returned, “how could I know that you desired the information?”

“Desired the information!” said Mrs. Markleham, sinking on the sofa. “I never had such a turn in all my life!”

“Have you been to the Study, then, mama?” asked Annie.

“Been to the Study, my dear!” she returned, emphatically. “Indeed I have! I came upon the amiable creature—if you’ll imagine my feelings, Miss Trotwood and David—in the act of making his will.”

Her daughter looked round from the window quickly.

“In the act, my dear Annie,” repeated Mrs. Markleham, spreading the newspaper on her lap like a table- cloth, and patting her hands upon it, “of making his last Will and Testament. The foresight and affection of the dear! I must tell you how it was. I really must, in justice to the darling—for he is nothing less!—tell you how it was. Perhaps you know, Miss Trotwood, that there is never a candle lighted in this house, until one’s eyes are literally falling out of one’s head with being stretched to read the paper. And that there is not a chair in this house, in which a paper can be what I call read, except one in the Study. This took me to the Study, where I saw a light. I opened the door. In company with the dear Doctor were two professional people, evidently connected with the law, and they were all three standing at the table: the darling Doctor pen in hand. ‘This simply expresses then,’ said the Doctor—Annie, my love, attend to the very words—‘this simply expresses then, gentlemen, the confidence I have in Mrs. Strong, and gives her all unconditionally?’ One of the professional people replied, ‘And gives her all unconditionally.’ Upon that, with the natural feelings of a mother, I said, ‘Good God, I beg your pardon!’ fell over the doorstep, and came away through the little back-passage where the pantry is.”

Mrs. Strong opened the window, and went out into the verandah, where she stood leaning against a pillar.

“But now isn’t it, Miss Trotwood, isn’t it, David, invigorating,” said Mrs. Markleham, mechanically following her with her eyes, “to find a man at Doctor Strong’s time of life, with the strength of mind to do this kind of thing? It only shows how right I was. I said to Annie, when Doctor Strong paid a very flattering visit to myself, and made her the subject of a declaration and an offer, I said, ‘My dear, there is no doubt whatever, in my opinion, with reference to a suitable provision for you, that Doctor Strong will do more than he binds himself to do.’ ”

Here the bell rang, and we heard the sound of the visitors’ feet as they went out.

“It’s all over, no doubt,” said the Old Soldier, after listening; “the dear creature has signed, sealed, and delivered, and his mind’s at rest. Well it may be! What a mind! Annie, my love, I am going to the Study with my paper, for I am a poor creature without news. Miss Trotwood, David, pray come and see the Doctor.”

I was conscious of Mr. Dick’s standing in the shadow of the room, shutting up his knife, when we accompanied her to the Study; and of my aunt’s rubbing her nose violently, by the way, as a mild vent for her intolerance of our military friend; but who got first into the Study, or how Mrs. Markleham settled herself in a moment in her easy-chair, or how my aunt and I came to be left together near the door (unless her eyes were quicker than mine, and she held me back), I have forgotten, if I ever knew. But this I know,—that we