The winter brought trouble to Thornleigh Manor. It was well for
Milly that she had tried to do her duty to her father, and had
submitted herself patiently to his will. About a fortnight before
Christmas Mr. Darrell went to North Shields to make his annual
investigation of the wharves and warehouses, and to take a kind of
review of the year's business. He never returned alive. He was
seized with an apoplectic fit in the office, and carried to his
hotel speechless. His wife and Milly were summoned by a telegraphic
message, and started for Shields by the first train that could
convey them there; but they were too late. He expired an hour before
their arrival.

I need not dwell upon the details of that sad time. Milly felt the
blow severely; and it was long before I saw her smile, after that
dark December day on which the fatal summons came. She had lost much
of her joyousness and brightness after the disappointment about
Angus Egerton, and this new sorrow quite crushed her.

They brought Mr. Darrell's remains to Thornleigh, and he was buried
in the family vault under the noble old church, where his father and
mother, his first wife, and a son who died in infancy had been
buried before him. He had been very popular in the neighbourhood,
and was sincerely regretted by all who had known him.

Julius Stormont was chief-mourner at the unpretentious funeral. He
seemed much affected by his uncle's death; and his manner towards
his cousin had an unusual gentleness.

I was present at the reading of the will, which took place in the
dining-room immediately after the funeral. Mrs. Darrell, Milly, Mr.