delaying the reading of the Will, and keeping the Heir waiting for the arrival of an obscure person who wasn’t even a member of the family, inasmuch as he didn’t bear the name.  I don’t think it’s quite respectful to one who is some day to be Head of the House!  I thought father was weakening in his patience when he said: “True, my dear—true!” and got up and left the room.  Some time afterwards when I passed the library I heard him walking up and down.

Father and I went up to town on the afternoon of Wednesday, January 2.  We stayed, of course, at Claridge’s, where we always stay when we go to town.  Mother wanted to come, too, but father thought it better not.  She would not agree to stay at home till we both promised to send her separate telegrams after the reading.

At five minutes to eleven we entered Mr. Trent’s office.  Father would not go a moment earlier, as he said it was bad form to seem eager at any time, but most of all at the reading of a will.  It was a rotten grind, for we had to be walking all over the neighbourhood for half an hour before it was time, not to be too early.

When we went into the room we found there General Sir Colin MacKelpie and a big man, very bronzed, whom I took to be Rupert St. Leger—not a very creditable connection to look at, I thought!  He and old MacKelpie took care to be in time!  Rather low, I thought it.  Mr. St. Leger was reading a letter.  He had evidently come in but lately, for though he seemed to be eager about it, he was only at the first page, and I could see that there were many sheets.  He did not look up when we came in, or till he had finished the letter; and you may be sure that neither I nor my father (who, as Head of the House, should have had more respect from him) took the trouble to go to him.  After all, he is a pauper and a wastrel, and he has not the honour of bearing our Name.  The General, however, came forward and greeted us both cordially.  He evidently had forgotten—or pretended to have—the discourteous way he once treated me, for he spoke to me quite in a friendly way—I thought more warmly than he did to father.  I was pleased to be spoken to so nicely, for, after all, whatever his manners may be, he is a distinguished man—has won the V.C. and a Baronetcy.  He got the latter not long ago, after the Frontier War in India.  I was not, however, led away into cordiality myself.  I had not forgotten his rudeness, and I thought that he might be sucking up to me.  I knew that when I had my dear Uncle Roger’s many millions I should be a rather important person; and, of course, he knew it too.  So I got even with him for his former impudence.  When he held out his hand I put one finger in it, and said, “How do?”  He got very red and turned away.  Father and he had ended by glaring at each other, so neither of us was sorry to be done with him.  All the time Mr. St. Leger did not seem to see or hear anything, but went on reading his letter.  I thought the old MacSkelpie was going to bring him into the matter between us, for as he turned away I heard him say something under his breath.  It sounded like “Help!” but Mr. S--- did not hear.  He certainly no notice of it.

As the MacS--- and Mr. S--- sat quite silent, neither looking at us, and as father was sitting on the other side of the room with his chin in his hand, and as I wanted to show that I was indifferent to the two S’s, I took out this notebook, and went on with the Record, bringing it up to this moment.

THE RECORD—Continued.

When I had finished writing I looked over at Rupert.

When he saw us, he jumped up and went over to father and shook his hand quite warmly.  Father took him very coolly.  Rupert, however, did not seem to see it, but came towards me heartily.  I happened to be doing something else at the moment, and at first I did not see his hand; but just as I was looking at it the clock struck eleven.  Whilst it was striking Mr. Trent came into the room.  Close behind him came his clerk, carrying a locked tin box.  There were two other men also.  He bowed to us all in turn, beginning with me.  I was standing opposite the door; the others were scattered about.  Father sat still, but Sir Colin and Mr. St. Leger rose.  Mr. Trent not did shake hands with any of us—not even me.  Nothing but his respectful bow.  That is the etiquette for an attorney, I understand, on such formal occasions.

He sat down at the end of the big table in the centre of the room, and asked us to sit round.  Father, of course, as Head of the Family, took the seat at his right hand.  Sir Colin and St. Leger went to the other side, the former taking the seat next to the attorney.  The General knows, of course, that a Baronet takes precedence at a ceremony.  I may be a Baronet some day myself, and have to know these things.

The clerk took the key which his master handed to him, opened the tin box, and took from it a bundle of papers tied with red tape.  This he placed before the attorney, and put the empty box behind him on the floor.  Then he and the other man sat at the far end of the table; the latter took out a big notebook and several pencils, and put them before him.  He was evidently a shorthand-writer.  Mr. Trent removed the tape from the bundle of papers, which he placed a little distance in front of him.  He took a sealed envelope from the top, broke the seal, opened the envelope, and from it took a parchment, in the folds of which were some sealed envelopes, which he laid in a heap in front of the other paper.  Then he unfolded the parchment, and laid it before him with the outside page up.  He fixed his glasses, and said:

“Gentlemen, the sealed envelope which you have seen me open is endorsed ‘My Last Will and Testament—Roger Melton, June, 1906.’  This document”—holding it up—“is as follows:

“‘I Roger Melton of Openshaw Grange in the County of Dorset; of number one hundred and twenty-three Berkeley Square London; and of the Castle of Vissarion in the Land of the Blue Mountains, being of sound mind do make this my Last Will and Testament on this day Monday the eleventh day of the month of June in the year of Our Lord one thousand nine hundred and six at the office of my old friend and Attorney Edward Bingham Trent in number one hundred and seventy-six Lincoln’s Inn Fields London hereby revoking all other wills that I may have formerly made and giving this as my sole and last Will making dispositions of my property as follows:

“‘1.  To my kinsman and nephew Ernest Halbard Melton Esquire, justice of the Peace, Humcroft the County of Salop, for his sole use and benefit the sum of twenty thousand pounds sterling free of all Duties Taxes and charges whatever to be paid out of my Five per centum Bonds of the City of Montreal, Canada.

“‘2.  To my respected friend and colleague as co-trustee to the Will of my late sister Patience late widow of the late Captain Rupert Sent Leger who predeceased her, Major-General Sir Colin Alexander MacKelpie, Baronet, holder of the Victoria Cross, Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath, of Croom in the county of Ross Scotland a sum of Twenty thousand pounds sterling free of all Taxes and charges whatsoever; to be paid out of my Five per centum Bonds of the City of Toronto, Canada.

“‘3.  To Miss Janet MacKelpie presently residing at Croom in the County of Ross Scotland the sum of Twenty thousand pounds sterling free of all Duties Taxes and Charges whatsoever, to be paid out of my Five per centum Bonds of the London County Council.

“‘4.  To the various persons charities and Trustees named in the schedule attached to this Will and marked A. the various sums mentioned therein, all free of Duties and Taxes and charges whatsoever.’”

Here Mr. Trent read out the list here following, and announced for our immediate understanding of the situation the total amount as two