'"DEAR MR. EDMONSTONE,--

My dear grandfather died at six this morning. He had an attack of
apoplexy yesterday evening, and never spoke again, though for a short
time he knew me. We hope he suffered little. Markham will make all
arrangements. We propose that the funeral should take place on
Tuesday; I hope you will be able to come. I would write to my cousin,
Philip Morville, if I knew his address; but I depend on you for saying
all that ought to be said. Excuse this illegible letter,--I hardly
know what I write.

'"Yours, very sincerely,
'"Guy Morville.'"


'Poor fellow!' said Philip, 'he writes with a great deal of proper
feeling.'

'How very sad for him to be left alone there!' said Mrs. Edmonstone.

'Very sad--very,' said her husband. 'I must start off to him at once--
yes, at once. Should you not say so--eh, Philip?'

'Certainly. I think I had better go with you. It would be the correct
thing, and I should not like to fail in any token of respect for poor
old Sir Guy.'

'Of course--of course,' said Mr. Edmonstone; 'it would be the correct
thing. I am sure he was always very civil to us, and you are next heir