He might have recovered, but he seemed as if he tacitly refused to live.
He expired at last, peacefully, in Graham's arms.

At the opening of his will it was found that he had left Graham his sole
heir and executor. Deducting government duties, legacies to servants,
and donations to public charities, the sum thus bequeathed to his lost
wife's nephew was two hundred and twenty thousand pounds.

With such a fortune, opening indeed was made for an ambition so long
obstructed. But Graham affected no change in his mode of life; he still
retained his modest bachelor's apartments, engaged no servants, bought no
horses, in no way exceeded the income he had posesssed before. He
seemed, indeed, depressed rather than elated by the succession to a
wealth which he had never anticipated.

Two children had been born from the marriage of Richard King: they had
died young, it is true, but Lady Janet at the time of her own decease was
not too advanced in years for the reasonable expectation of other
offspring; and even after Richard King became a widower, he had given to
Graham no hint of his testamentary dispositions. The young man was no
blood-relation to him, and naturally supposed that such relations would
become the heirs. But in truth the deceased seemed to have no blood-
relations: none had ever been known to visit him; none raised a voice to
question the justice of his will.

Lady Janet had been buried at Kensal Green; her husband's remains were
placed in the same vault.

For days and days Graham went his way lonelily to the cemetery. He might
be seen standing motionless by that tomb, with tears rolling down his