Well, let me not spin out my story. The result of my examination of Mr.
Barrington's affairs, was saddening in the extreme. He was quite ruined.
Neglect and extravagant living, with security debts, had mortgaged his
entire property. When it was settled, and the hall was sold, his widow and
daughter had just enough to live upon comfortably--scarcely so much. They
gladly embraced my suggestion to remove to a small cottage near our own,
in town, and there they now live--you may see the low roof through the
window.

I am glad to say that my reëxamination of the executorial accounts, which
had so troubled the poor dying gentleman, proved his fears quite
unfounded. There was mere disorder--no grounds for "exception." I told as
much to Annie, who alone knew all; and her smile, inexpressibly sweet and
filled with thanks, was my sole executorial "commission."


VII.


I have just been discarded by Annie.

Let me endeavor to collect my thoughts and recall what she said to me. My
head is troubled to-day--it is strange what a want of self-control I have!
I thought I was strong--and I am weaker than a child.

I told her that I loved her--had loved her for years--that she was
dearer, far, to me than all on earth beside my mother. And she answered
me--agitated, but perfectly resolved:

"I cannot marry you, Mr. Cleave."