"Try and talk of something else, mother dear. It is all so ghastly and oppressive! Tell me about Ada and the boys."
"Ada was out when Mr. Newton came. I left a little note telling her of your uncle's awfully sudden death, and of my intention of remaining with you until after the funeral. What a state of excitement she will be in! I have no doubt she will be here to-morrow."
"Very likely," said Katherine, who was pouring out tea.
"Did Mr. Newton mention to you that your uncle had written to him to come and draw up a new will?"
"Why, I wrote the note, which my uncle signed."
"Yes, of course; I had forgotten. But did Mr. Newton say that he had a faint hope that he might have destroyed the other will?"
"It would make an immense difference to us if he had."
"Would it?" asked Kate, to extract an answer from her mother.
"Mr. Newton believes that if he died intestate you would inherit everything."
"I am not sure. But to get away from the subject, which somehow always draws me back to it, I have one bit of good news for you, my darling. I had a letter from Santley this morning. He will take my novel, and will give me a hundred and fifty pounds for it."
"Really? Oh, this is glorious news! I am so delighted! Then you will get more for the next; you will become known and appreciated."
"Do not be too sure; it may be a failure. And at present I do not feel as if I should ever have any ideas again. My brain seems so weary."
"Perhaps," whispered Katherine, "you _may_ be able to rest. You are looking very tired and ill."
Somewhat to her own surprise, Katherine slept profoundly that night. The delicious sense of comfort and security which her mother's presence brought soothed her ineffably. It seemed as if no harm could touch her while she felt the clasp of those dear arms.
The early forenoon brought Mr. Newton, and after a little preliminary talk respecting the arrangements he had made for the funeral, he proposed to look for the will which he had drawn up some years before, and which, to the best of his recollection, Mr. Liddell had taken charge of himself.
"Might you not wait until the poor old man is laid in his last home? asked Mrs. Liddell.
"Perhaps it would be more seemly," said the lawyer; "but it is almost necessary to know who is the heir and who is the executor. Besides, it is quite possible that since he signed the will I drew up for him in '59, and to which I was executor, he may have made another, of which I know nothing, and I may have to communicate with some other executor. I will therefore begin the search at once. Would you and your daughter like to be present?"