Her eyes were wide open; but when Augusta held the candle near her she
did not shut them or flinch. Her hand, too--oh, Heavens! the fingers
were nearly cold.

Then Augusta understood, and lifting up her arms in agony, she shrieked
till the whole house rang.




CHAPTER IV.

AUGUSTA'S DECISION.


On the second day following the death of poor little Jeannie Smithers,
Mr. Eustace Meeson was strolling about Birmingham with his hands in his
pockets, and an air of indecision on his decidedly agreeable and
gentlemanlike countenance. Eustace Meeson was not particularly cast down
by the extraordinary reverse of fortune which he had recently
experienced. He was a young gentleman of a cheerful nature; and, besides,
it did not so very much matter to him. He was in a blessed condition of
celibacy, and had no wife and children dependant upon him, and he knew
that, somehow or other, it would go hard if, with the help of the one
hundred a year that he had of his own, he did not manage, with his
education, to get a living by hook or by crook. So it was not the loss of
the society of his respected uncle, or the prospective enjoyment of two
millions of money, which was troubling him. Indeed, after he had once
cleared his goods and chattels out of Pompadour Hall and settled them in
a room in an Hotel, he had not given the matter much thought. But he had