She had desired above all things that honour should be shown to her in
her death; her mind often occupied itself with strange interest and
pertinacity on the details of her funeral. All her wishes respecting it
had long been known to her granddaughters, but her eldest surviving son
had never been mentioned by name to them. She always spoke of him as
"the chief mourner."

Suddenly, however, it appeared to have occurred to her that he might not
be present at it, after all. Everything must be risked to ascertain
this. She must write, she must entreat his presence. But when he and his
brother sent in their cards she, for the first time in her life,
perceived that all she had done was useless. She saw the whole meaning
of the situation; for this estate had come to her through the failure of
heirs male to her father, and it was the provision of his will that she
and her heirs should take back his name--the name of Melcombe.

She knew well that these two sons had always retained their father's
name; but when they sent it in to her, she instinctively perceived
their meaning. They were calling her attention to the fact, and she was
sure now that they never meant to change it.

She had not behaved kindly or justly to her grandson's widow, for people
had called little Peter her heir, and she had not contradicted them. But
she had never made a will; and she secretly hoped that at the last
something would occur to prevent her doing so.

Everything was absolutely in her own power, to leave as she pleased; but
a half superstitious feeling prompted her to wait. She wished her eldest
surviving son to inherit the estate; but sad reflection seemed to assure