aid the doctor, when he came
into the next room, where Katherine awaited him. "You must do your best
to make him take nourishment, and keep him as warm as possible. I
suppose Mr. Newton is always in town?"

"I think so; at least I never knew him to be absent since I came here. I
rather expect him to-day or to-morrow. Do you think my uncle seriously
ill?"

"He is not really ill, but he has an incurable complaint--old age. He
ought not to be so weak as he is; still, he may last some time, with
your good care."

Katherine took her needle-work and settled herself to keep watch by the
old man. The doctor's inquiry for Mr. Newton had startled her, but his
subsequent words allayed her fears. "He may last for some time,"
conveyed to her mind the notion of an indefinite lease of life.

Mr. Liddell seemed to be slumbering peacefully, when, after a long
silence, during which Katherine's thoughts had traversed many a league
of land and sea, he said suddenly, in stronger tones than usual, "Are
you there?" He scarcely ever called her by her name.

"I am," said Katherine, coming to the bedside.

"Here, take these keys"--he drew them from under his pillows; "this one
unlocks that bureau"--pointing to a large old-fashioned piece of
furniture, dark and polished, which stood on one side of the fireplace;
"open it, and in the top drawer left you will find a long, folded paper.
Bring it to me."

Katherine did as he directed, and could not help seeing the words, "Will
of John Wilmot Liddell," and a date some seven or eight years back,
inscribed upon it. She handed it to her uncle, arranging his pillows so
that he might sit up more comfortably, while she rather wondered at the
commonplace aspect of so potent an instrument. A will, she imagined, was
something huge, of parchment, with big seals attached.

John Liddell slowly put on his spectacles, and unfolding the paper, read
for some time in silence.

"This will not do," he said at last, clearly and firmly. "I was mistaken
in him. The care for and of money must be born in you; it cannot be
taught. No, I can make a better disposition. Could _you_ take care of
money, girl?" he asked sternly.

"I should try," returned Katherine, quietly.

There was a pause. The old man lay thinking, his lean, brown hand lying
on the open paper. "Write," he said at length, so suddenly and sharply
that he startled his niece; get paper and write to Newton. Katherine
brought the writing materials, and