Neither on that day nor on the next did the lawyer come, and on the following morning all earthly troubles were over with Mrs Winterfield.  It was early on the Sunday morning that she died, and late on the Saturday evening Mr Palmer had sent up to say that he had been detained at Taunton, but that he would wait on Mrs Winterfield early on the Monday morning.  On the Friday the poor lady had said much on the subject, but had been comforted by an assurance from her nephew that the arrangement should be carried out exactly as she wished it, whether the codicil was or was not added to the will.  To Clara she said nothing more on the subject, nor at such a time did Captain Aylmer feel that he could offer her any assurance on the matter.  But Clara knew that the will was not altered; and though at the time she was not thinking much about money, she had, nevertheless, very clearly made up her own mind as to her own conduct.  Nothing should induce her to take a present of fifteen hundred pounds or, indeed, of as many pence from Captain Aylmer.  During those hours of sickness in the house they had been much thrown together, and no one could have been kinder or more gentle to her than he had been.  He had come to call her Clara, as people will do when joined together in such duties, and had been very pleasant as well as affectionate in his manner with her.  It had seemed to her that he also wished to take upon himself the cares and love of an adopted brother.  But as an adopted brother she would have nothing to do with him.  The two men whom she liked best in the world would assume each the wrong place; and between them both she felt that she would be left friendless.

On the Saturday afternoon they had both surmised how it was going to be with Mrs Winterfield, and Captain Aylmer had told Mr Palmer that he feared his coming on the Monday would be useless.  He explained also what was required, and declared that he would be at once ready to make good the deficiency in the will Mr Palmer seemed to think that this would be better even than the making of a codicil in the last moments of the lady’s life; and, therefore, he and Captain Aylmer were at rest on that subject.

During the greater part of the Saturday night both Clara and Captain Aylmer remained with their aunt; and once when the morning was almost there, and the last hour was near at hand, she had said a word or two which both of them had understood, in which she implored her darling Frederic to take a brother’s care of Clara Amedroz.  Even in that moment Clara had repudiated the legacy, feeling sure in her heart that Frederic Aylmer was aware what was the nature of the care which he ought to owe, if he would consent to owe any care to her.  He promised his aunt that he would do as she desired him, and it was impossible that Clara should then, aloud, repudiate the compact.  But she said nothing, merely allowing her hand to rest with his beneath the thin, dry hand of the dying