The manor-house settled down to its old routine, minus the old man who had once been its master.

The villagers, having satisfied themselves that things were likely to be pretty much the same for them under the new _regime_ as the old, resumed their usual ways, and touched their caps regularly to the young Squire.

The trampled grass in Yeld churchyard lifted its head again, and a new inscription was added to the family roll on the door of the vault.
"Armstrong," said the heir one day, as he stood inspecting this last memorial, "I have a good mind to have my brother's name put on here too." This was the first time the tutor had ever heard the boy mention his brother.

Indeed, he had, like Dr Brandram, doubted whether Roger so much as knew that he had had a brother.
"What brother ?" he inquired vaguely.
"Oh, he died long ago, before I was born.

He was the son of father's first wife, you know," pointing to the inscription of Ruth Ingleton's name.