the conclusion that the will would never be executed, and
to have Miss Merrick thus suddenly declare her decision was enough to
startle even the lawyer's natural reserve.

"Very well, Jane," he said, briefly.

They were alone in the invalid's morning room, Phibbs having been
asked to retire.

"There is no use disguising the fact, Silas, that I grow weaker every
day, and the numbness is creeping nearer and nearer to my heart," said
Miss Merrick, in her usual even tones. "It is folly for me to trifle
with these few days of grace yet allowed me, and I have fully made up
my mind as to the disposition of my property."

"Yes?" he said, enquiringly, and drew from his pocket a pencil and
paper.

"I shall leave to my niece Louise five thousand dollars."

"Yes, Jane," jotting down the memorandum.

"And to Elizabeth a like sum."

The lawyer seemed disappointed. He tapped the pencil against his
teeth, musingly, for a moment, and then wrote down the amount.

"Also to my brother, John Merrick, the sum of five thousand dollars,"
she resumed.

"To your brother?"

"Yes. That should be enough to take care of him as long as he lives.
He seems quite simple in his tastes, and he is an old man."

The lawyer wrote it down.

"All my other remaining property, both real and personal, I shall
leave to my niece, Patricia Doyle."

"Jane!"

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Then do as I bid you, Silas Watson."

He leaned back in his chair and looked at her thoughtfully.

"I am not only your lawyer, Jane; I am also your friend and
counsellor. Do you realize what this bequest means?" he asked, gently.

"It means that Patricia will inherit Elmhurst--and a fortune besides.
Why not, Silas? I liked the child from the first. She's frank and open
and brave, and will do credit to my judgment."

"She is very young and unsophisticated," said the lawyer, "and of all
your nieces she will least appreciate your generosity."

"You are to be my executor, and manage the estate until the girl comes
of age. You will see that she is properly educated and fitted for her
station in life. As for appreciation, or gratitude, I don't care a
snap of my finger for such fol-de-rol."

The lawyer sighed.

"But the boy, Jane? You seem to have forgotten him," he said.

"Drat the boy! I've done enough for him already."

"Wouldn't Tom like you to provide for Kenneth in some way, however
humbly?"

She glared at him angrily.

"How do you know what Tom w