and look bitterly on me now, as you did when you
forced me out of your house. I detest your obsequious attentions--I
was as worthy of them ten years ago, before I dragged down my old age
to the debasing efforts of money-making. You know I am rich; you would
worship my money in me now. Not a smiling look, not a soft word you
bestow on me, but is for my riches, not for me. Ay, you think you have
my wealth in your grasp already; you know I cannot live long. Thank
God that my life is almost ended, and I hope my death will be a
benefit to you, in softening your hard hearts."

Mrs. Lawson drew some hope from his last words, and she turned away
her head to hide the joy which shone on her face.

In a few days the old man became seriously ill, and was altogether
confined to his room. As death evidently approached, his mind became
serene and calm, and he received the attentions which Mrs. Lawson and
his son lavished on him with a silent composure, which led them to
hope that he had completely forgotten their previous conduct to him.

The night on which he died, he turned to his son, and said a few
words, a very few words, regarding worldly matters. He exhorted
Henry to live in a somewhat less expensive style, and to cultivate a
spirit of contentment without riches; then he blessed God that he was
entering on a world in which he could hear no more of money or earthly
possession. He remained in a calm sleep during the greater part of the
night, they thought, but in the morning they found him dead.

The funeral was over, and the time was come in which the old man's
will was to be opened. Mrs. Lawson had waited for that moment--she
would have forcibly dragged time onward to that moment--she had
execrated the long hours of night since the old man's death--she had
still more anathemized the slowly passing days, when gazing furtively
through a corner of the blinded window, she saw fine equipages and
finely-dressed ladies passing, and she planned how she would shine
when the old man's wealth would be her own. She drew glorious mental
pictures of how she would burst from behind the shadowing cloud of
poverty, and dazzle all her acquaintances. Her dress, her carriage,
her style of living would be unique in her rank of life for taste and
costliness. She would show them she had got money--money at last--more
money than they all.

Now at last she sat and saw the will being opened; she felt that it
was a mere formality, for the old man ha