“How awful!' said Hetty, knowing nothing of what was going through her mind. “Well, never mind, you are here now, and that is what matters. And you have still managed to arrive in time for the reading of your grandfather's will.”

The two ladies both thought of the reading of Jebadiah's will, which was the reason for Rebecca's journey to London. It was to take place that afternoon.

“That is why I pressed on with the journey, instead of staying with Biddy,” said Rebecca. “I knew it would be both difficult and frustrating for Charles to have to rearrange the reading, and besides, I'm sure you both must be wanting to know how things have been left.”

“It will certainly make life easier,” remarked Hetty. “Particularly as the will was missing for so long. It was only by the greatest good fortune it was ever found.”

“It was typical of Grandfather to keep it himself, instead of entrusting it to his lawyers,” said Rebecca. “ "They're rogues, Becky," he used to say to me,” she remembered with a smile. “ "Lawyers... bankers... they're all the same. Rogues and rascals, Becky — every man.”

“Typical indeed!” agreed Hetty. “And it was just as typical of him not tell anyone where he had put it. He always liked to keep his own counsel where business matters were concerned.”

Jebadiah Marsden — Rebecca's grandfather and her uncle Charles's father — had died some time before, but his will had only recently been found, tucked away in a copy of Shakespeare's plays.

“It's hard to believe he was the son of a cobbler,” said Rebecca, looking round the room. She took in the elegant furnishings, the expensive paintings and the superb marble fireplace. She thought of her dearly beloved grandfather, whose drive and energy had led him to take advantage of the opportunities the new manufacturing industries were offering, and which had resulted in him making a fortune. “Our family has come a long way.”