“She is gone,” said Mr. Manning, softly.

“Dead!” ejaculated Frank.

“Yes, her sufferings are over.  Let us hope she is better off.  My boy, I think you had better return to your bed.  You can do nothing for your mother now.”

“I would rather stay here,” said Frank, sadly.  “I can at least look at her, and soon I shall lose even that comfort.”

The thought was too much for the poor boy, and he burst into tears.

“Do as you please, Frank,” assented Mr. Manning.  “I feel for you, and I share in your grief.  I will go and tell Mark of our sad loss.”

He made his way to Mark’s chamber and entered.  He touched Mark, who was in a doze, and he started up.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, crossly.

“Your poor mother is dead, Mark.”

“Well, there was no need to wake me for that,” said the boy, irritably.  “I can’t help it, can I?”

“I think, my son, you might speak with more feeling.  Death is a solemn thing.”

“There’s nobody here but me,” said Mark, sneering.

“I don’t catch your meaning,” said his father, showing some annoyance, for it is not pleasant to be seen through.

“Why should you care so much?” continued Mark.  “I suppose you will be well provided for.  Do you know how she has left the property?  How much of it goes to Frank?”

“I can’t say,” said Mr. Manning.  “I never asked my wife.”

“Do you mean to say, father, that you don’t know how the property is left?” asked Mark, with a sharp glance at his father.

“I may have my conjectures,” said Mr. Manning, softly.  “I don’t think my dear wife would leave me without some evidences of her affection.  Probably the bulk of the estate goes to your brother, and something to me.  Doubtless we shall continue to live here, as I shall naturally be your brother’s guardian.”

“Don’t call him my brother,” said Mark.

“Why not?  True, he is only your stepbrother; but you have lived under the same roof, and been to school together, and this ought to strengthen the tie between you.”

“I don’t like Frank,” said Mark.  “He puts on altogether too many airs.”

“I had not observed that,” said his father.

“Well, I have.  Only this evening he saw fit to speak impudently to me.”

“Indeed!  I am really amazed to hear it,” said Mr. Manning, softly.

“Oh, he thinks he is the master of the house, or will be,” said Mark, “and he presumes on that.”

“He is unwise,” said Mr. Manning.  “Even if the whole property descends to him, which I can hardly believe possible, I, as his guardian, will have the right to control him.”

“I hope you’ll do it, father.  At any rate, don’t let him boss over me, for I won’t stand it.”

“I don’t think he will boss over you,” answered his father, in a slow, measured voice, betraying, however, neither anger nor excitement.  “Of course, I should not permit that.”