"And you have got your reward," said Olivia bitterly.
"As you say," retorted Miss Pewsey, tossing her head again, "but the will is in order, and I had nothing to do with the making of it. I appeal to Mr. Pastor."
"Why, certainly," said the lawyer, looking on Olivia with something like pity. "Miss Wharf gave me instructions to make a new will, during the week before she met with her untimely end. Miss Pewsey was not in the room----"
"But no doubt she induced my aunt to cut me out of the will."
"No," cried Miss Pewsey breathing very hard, and looking more drab than ever. "I won't stand this. Your aunt had good cause to take the money from you--oh you deceiving girl."
At this Rupert suddenly rose and took Olivia's hand. He half guessed what was coming, and looked at the spiteful face of the heiress. Olivia stared. She could not understand. Miss Pewsey was about to speak, when Mr. Pastor intervened.
"May I be permitted to remark that I have not finished reading the will of the deceased lady," said he sweetly.
"There's no more money to be disposed of," said Olivia bitterly, "my enemy has got it all."
Pastor made a gesture of silence to prevent Miss Pewsey bursting out into a volume of words. "There is no more money to be disposed of as you say, Miss Rayner, but Miss Wharf sets forth in the will why she disinherited you."
"Ah," cried Olivia a light breaking in upon her, and reading the truth in Miss Pewsey's look of triumph, "so my aunt knew----"