banished; the heritage not hers; the will to be altered; Dalibard
esteemed indispensable to the life of the baronet. Come, there was hope
here,--not for the heritage, indeed, but at least for a munificent
bequest.

At noon, some visitors, bringing strangers from London whom Sir Miles had
invited to see the house (which was one of the lions of the
neighbourhood, though not professedly a show-place), were expected.
Aware of this, Dalibard prayed the baronet to rest quiet till his company
arrived, and then he said carelessly,--

"It will be a healthful diversion to your spirits to accompany them a
little in the park; you can go in your garden-chair; you will have new
companions to talk with by the way; and it is always warm and sunny at
the slope of the hill, towards the bottom of the park."

Sir Miles assented cheerfully; the guests came, strolled over the house,
admired the pictures and the armour and the hall and the staircase, paid
due respect to the substantial old-fashioned luncheon, and then,
refreshed, and in great good-humour, acquiesced in Sir Miles's
proposition to saunter through the park.

The poor baronet was more lively than usual. The younger people
clustered gayly round his chair (which was wheeled by his valet), smiling
at his jests and charmed with his courteous high-breeding. A little in
the rear walked Gabriel, paying special attention to the prettiest and
merriest girl of the company, who was a great favourite with Sir Miles,--
perhaps for those reasons.

"What a delightful old gentleman!" said the young lady. "How I envy Miss