Year: 1874

Ills DISab1s IL Wub lIOH Ills Ihlu0T y
solicitors, who told him that Sir
George, having been violently excited
in the meeting with his son, had had a
rush of blood to his head, and subse-
quently fit of apoplexy, from which
he had died about ten days previous to
the date of the letter. "Every search, :"
they went on to say, " for will having
been made, we have the honor to in
form you that none has been found, and
that therefore, as heir at law, you are
entitled to lay claim to the whole of the
estates"


Georges first feeling, to give him his
due, was one of distress at the death of
his father, and that that death might
presumably be attributed to his inter
view with him but soon this feeling
gave way to thoughts of his own condi-
tioh. All his difficulties at an end Do
you wonder that in telling the news to
Ethel he broke down, and that, for a
few moments at least, she thought he
had lost his head


The change in their life was great
almost unbearable at first.


Before he moved from his lodgings
George had caused the strictest search
to be made for his fathers will. He
must be sure of his right, he said, be-
| fore taking possession Of the estates );
and it was only after every imaginable
place had been futilely ransacked that
he consented to have transferred to his
own name the handsome balance which
lay unemployed.


After trip abroad they made up
their minds to stay at Blackwood and
before they had been there a year the
property began to show manifest signs
of the change Of owners. The village
began to grow tidier. A model cottage
or two were put up here and there. The
school-room was rebuilt, and the church
improved. Ethel busted herself with
the poor, and helped them to help
themselves, not by giving them money,
but by putting themin the way of earn
ing it.


And now I ask you to come on with
me to day in November, little more
than three years after George had come
to Blackwood.


On the evening in question George
had been very busy with various mat
ters connected with his estate, and
had, about six o'clock, drawn his chair
to the fire to wait for Ethel. She did
not come, however, and he was rest
less, and with the working fit still on
him, so he determined to make the most
of his time, and go over box of old
leases having reference to portion of
the estate in which an opportunity had
arisen for the consolidation and i'm
provement of the tenancies. It was q
cold day, there was a bright fire burn
ing on the hearth, and as George leaned
over it from his armchair the papers
which he was reading were dangerously
near the flames. He had read one or
two leases, and was proceeding to ex-
anime another, when between the leaves
he noticed a document of different
shape and character, which he at first
took to be map or something connec-
ted with the subject matter of the
lease. He read on, however, and found
that there was no allusion in the lease
to any schedule, map or appendix, and
then he took up the paper to see what
it was. As he opened it, in the middle
he caught sight of his own name, and
on closer examination he found it was
his fathers will-the lost will for which
there had been such a search.


The blood rushed to his head. The
room seemed to whirl round, and for
moment he lost himself and was in
sensible. When he recovered the shock
he sat down and set to work to read
the will, which was in due order and
oorraatlxy Iynx Pr ~ Civ Naoro.o
gave and bequeathed to George Love-
lace, ESQ.,, of AIMS Court, Covent Gar
den, "who, having openly defed my
authority, disobeyed my wishes, and
married a woman of no repute, de-
serves no consideration at my hands,
and shall have none, and who and
here followed a long paragraph of
abuse, couched in language so violent
as to make George gnash his teeth as
he read it" the sum of one thousand
pounds sterling. I give and bequeath
and here followed a few, very few,
legacies to old servants and dependents,
and then the will went on to say, "the
residue of my property, both real and
personal, I leave to Amy Annabel, COM
monty called Dunscombe, at present
living with the lodge-keeper at Black
wood, and who is really my natural
daughter by woman named Deane.
r


In noted London club, a member
was seen hurrying through one of the
apartments. "Halloo, Fairbairn p said
a gentleman. "Here you are at last !"


81 ap very sorry, but when you
know the reason, I am sure you will
forgive me-"


"Well, what is it? Why, your face
is as long as my arm p


$50 it need be. I have seen as sad
a sight to-day as ever saw in my life"


"What was it?" and several men
crowded round, frightened out of chat
fing by the serious expression of Lord
Fairbanks face.


"You remember Lovelace, Henry
the man with the little wife whom you
used to admire so much ?"


What, the man in your county, who
succeeded about three years ago ?"


"Just so. Well, he's dead"


Good Heavens How? when ?"


Well, it's rather long story but
about four months ago, just as he was
doing we'll in the county-improving
his property, building schools, and
working like slave at all that was COM
mendable-one unlucky day, while po-
king about some old papers, he found
his fathers will you remember he had
row with the old man about his mar
riage. Well, in this will the old cur
mudgeon, after abusing his son, left all
the property, except couple of thou
sands, to q natural daughter. Lovelace
was all alone when he found the will,