pitifully upon the face of the living, walked away, whispering
mysteriously of insanity. Near _him_ Lenora dared not come, though
through the open door she watched him, and oftentimes he met the
glance of her wild, black eyes, fixed upon him with a mournful
interest; then, as if moved by some spirit of evil, she would turn
away, and seeking her mother's room, would mock at that lady's grief,
advising her not to make too much of an effort.

At last there came a change. In the yard there was the sound of many
feet, and in the house the hum of many voices, all low and subdued.
Again in the village of Glenwood was heard the sound of the tolling
bell; again through the garden and over the running water brook moved
the long procession to the graveyard; and soon Ernest Hamilton lay
quietly sleeping by the side of his wife and children.

For some time after the funeral nothing was said concerning the will,
and Margaret had almost forgotten the existence of one, when one day
as she was passing the library door her mother appeared, and asked her
to enter. She did so, and found there her brother, whose face, besides
the marks of recent sorrow which it wore, now seemed anxious and
expectant.

"Maggie dear," said the oily-tongued woman, "I have sent for you to
hear read your beloved father's last will and testament."

A deep flush mounted to Margaret's face, as she repeated somewhat
inquiringly, "Father's last will and testament?"

"Yes, dear," answered her mother, "his last will and testament. He
made it several weeks ago, even before poor Carrie died; and as Walter