ecome friends. A very proper feeling; but I'm
not deceived, Phibbs. My end's in plain sight."

"Yes, Miss Jane."

"And somebody's got to have my money and dear Elmhurst when I'm
through with them. Who will it be, Phibbs?"

"I'm sure I don't know, Miss."

"Nor do I. The money's mine, and I can do what I please with it; and
I'm under no obligation to anyone."

"Except Kenneth," said a soft voice behind her.

Jane Merrick gave a start at the interruption and turned red and angry
as, without looking around, she answered:

"Stuff and nonsense! I know my duties and my business, Silas Watson."

"To be sure," said a little, withered man, passing around the chair
and facing the old woman with an humble, deprecating air. He was
clothed in black, and his smooth-shaven, deeply lined face was
pleasant of expression and not without power and shrewd intelligence.
The eyes, however, were concealed by heavy-rimmed spectacles, and his
manner was somewhat shy and reserved. However, he did not hesitate to
speak frankly to his old friend, nor minded in the least if he aroused
her ire.

"No one knows better than you, dear Miss Jane, her duties and
obligations; and no one performs them more religiously. But your
recent acts, I confess, puzzle me. Why should you choose from a lot
of inexperienced, incompetent girls a successor to Thomas Bradley's
fortune, when he especially requested you in his will to look after
any of his relatives, should they need assistance? Kenneth Forbes, his
own nephew, was born after Tom's death, to be sure; but he is alone in
the world now, an orphan, and has had no advantages to help him along
in life since his mother's death eight years ago. I think Tom Bradley
must have had a premonition of what was to come even though his sister
was not married at the time of his death, and I am sure he would want
you to help Kenneth now."

"He placed me under no obligations to leave the boy any money,"
snapped the old woman, white with suppressed wrath, "you know that
well enough, Silas Watson, for you drew up the will."

The old gentleman slowly drew a pattern upon the gravelled walk with
the end of his walking-stick.

"Yes, I drew up the will," he said, deliberately, "and I remember that
he gave to you, his betrothed bride, all that he possessed--gave it
gladly and lovingly, and without reserve. He was very fond of you,
Miss Jane. But perhaps his conscience pricked him a bit, after all,
for he added the words: