“But, when the squire died, I thought from what Charlotte told me of the Julius Sandals, that there would have to be a change; and when I saw your grandfather sorting the papers for me, and heard that Mistress Alice and Charlotte had been forced to leave their home, I knew that the hour for the change had struck, and that I must be about the business.  Moser was written to soon after the funeral of Squire William.  He has now all the necessary witnesses and papers ready.  He is at Ambleside with them, and to-morrow morning they will have a talk with Mr. Julius at Seat-Sandal.”

“I wonder where Harry Sandal is.”

“After you, comes Harry.  Your grandfather did not forget him.  There is a provision in the will, which directs, that if, for any cause not conceivable by the testator, Harry Sandal must resign in favor of Stephen Sandal, then the land and money devised to you, as his heir, shall become the property of Harry Sandal.  In a great measure you would only change places, and that is not a very hard punishment for a man who cared so little for his family home as Harry did.  So you see, Stephen, you must claim your rights in order to give Harry his.”

The facts of this conversation opened up endlessly to the mother and son, and hour after hour it was continued without any loss of interest.  But the keenest pleasure his new prospects gave Stephen referred itself to Mrs. Sandal and Charlotte.  He could now reinstate them in their old home and in their old authority in it.  For the bright visions underneath his eyelids, he could not sleep,—­visions of satisfied affection, and of grief and humiliation crowned with joy and happiness and honor.

It had been decided that Stephen should drive his mother to the rectory in the morning, and there they were to wait the result of Moser’s interview with Julius.  The dawning came up with sunshine; the storm was over, the earth lay smiling in that “clear shining after rain,” which is so exhilarating and full of promise.  The sky was as blue, the air as fresh, fell and wood, meadow and mountain, as clean and bright as if they had just come new from the fingers of the Almighty.  Ducie was handsomely dressed in dark violet-colored satin, and Stephen noticed with pride how well her rich clothing and quiet, dignified manner became her; while Ducie felt even a greater pride in the stately, handsome young man who drove her with such loving care down Latrigg fell that eventful morning.

Julius was at breakfast when the company from Ambleside were shown into the master’s room in Seat-Sandal.  The lawyer sent in his card; and Julius, who knew him well, was a trifle annoyed by the visit.  “It will be about your mother’s income, Sophia,” he said, as he viciously broke the egg he was holding; “now mind, I am not going to yield one inch.”

“Why should you, Julius?  I am sure we have been blamed and talked over enough.  We never can be popular here.”