"
"I have no desire to be enlightened, sir," murmured Reginald, who felt
that his uncle's words boded no good to himself.
"My will has been made since my marriage," continued Sir Oswald,
without noticing his nephew's interruption; "any previous will would,
indeed, have been invalidated by that event Two-thirds--more than two-
thirds--of my property has been left to my wife, who will be a very
rich woman when I am dead and gone. Should she have a son, the landed
estates will, of course, go to him; but in any case, Lady Eversleigh
will be mistress of a large fortune. I leave five thousand a year to
each of my nephews. As for you, Reginald, you will, perhaps, consider
yourself bitterly wronged; but you must, in justice, remember that you
have been your own enemy. The annuity of two hundred a year which you
now possess will, after my death, become an income of five hundred a
year, derived from a small estate called Morton Grange, in
Lincolnshire. You have nothing more than a modest competency to hope
for, therefore; and it rests with yourself to win wealth and
distinction by the exercise of your own talents."
The pallor of Reginald Eversleigh's face alone revealed the passion
which consumed him as he received these most unwelcome statements from
his uncle's lips. Fortunately for the young man, Sir Oswald did not
observe his countenance, for at this moment Lady Eversleigh appeared on
the terrace-walk outside the open window of her husband's study, and he
hurried to her.
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