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But here they were
wrong. It was not in Lady Maulevrier's nature to lead a sordid life in
order to save money. Yet in these quiet years that were gone--starting
with that golden nucleus which her husband was supposed to have brought
home from India, obtained no one knows how, the Countess had amassed one
of the largest fortunes possessed by any dowager in the peerage. She had
it, and she held it, with a grasp that nothing but death could loosen;
nay, that all-foreseeing mind of hers might contrive to cheat grim death
itself, and to scheme a way for protecting this wealth, even when she
who had gathered and garnered it should be mouldering in her grave. The
entailed estates belonged to Maulevrier, were he never such a fool or
spendthrift; but this fortune of the dowager's was her own, to dispose
of as she pleased, and not a penny of it was likely to go to the young
Earl.
Lady Maulevrier's pride and hopes were concentrated upon her
granddaughter Lesbia. She should be the inheritress of this noble
fortune--she should spread and widen the power of the Maulevrier race.


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