appeared to resign himself to his fate, and at present
Wattleborough saw little of him. It seemed likely that he might
still found the park which was to bear his name; but perhaps it
would only be done in consequence of directions in his will. It
was believed that he could not live much longer.

With his kinsfolk he held very little communication. Alfred Yule,
a battered man of letters, had visited Wattleborough only
twice(including the present occasion) since John's return hither.
Mrs Edmund Yule, with her daughter--now Mrs Reardon--had been
only once, three years ago. These two families, as you have
heard, were not on terms of amity with each other, owing to
difficulties between Mrs Alfred and Mrs Edmund; but John seemed
to regard both impartially. Perhaps the only real warmth of
feeling he had ever known was bestowed upon Edmund, and Miss
Harrow had remarked that he spoke with somewhat more interest of
Edmund's daughter, Amy, than of Alfred's daughter, Marian. But it
was doubtful whether the sudden disappearance from the earth of
all his relatives would greatly have troubled him. He lived a
life of curious self-absorption, reading newspapers (little
else), and talking with old friends who had stuck to him in spite
of his irascibility.

Miss Harrow received her visitors in a small and soberly
furnished drawing-room. She was nervous, probably because of
Jasper Milvain, whom she had met but once--last spring--and who
on that occasion had struck her as an alarmingly modern young
man. In the shadow of a window-curtain sat a slight, simply-
dressed girl, whose short curly hair and thoughtful countenance
Jasper again recognised. When it was his turn to be presented to