Mitty, poor Aunt Mitty. She died all alone in her house
last night, and the servants found her this morning."

"Well, the last thing she did was a kindness," I said gently.

"I'm glad of that, glad she came to see me, but, Ben, I can't help
believing that it killed her. She had Aunt Matoaca's heart trouble, and
the strain was too much." Then, as I held out my arms, she clung to me,
weeping. "Never leave me alone, Ben--whatever happens, never, never
leave me alone!"

* * * * *

A few days later, when Miss Mitty's will was opened, it was found that
she had left to Sally her little savings of the last few years, which
amounted to ten thousand dollars. The house, with her income, passed
from her to the hospital endowed by Edmond Bland in a fit of rage with
his youngest daughter; and the old lady's canary and the cheque, which
fluttered some weeks later from the lawyer's letter, were the only
possessions of hers that reached her niece.

"She left the miniature of me painted when I was a child to George,"
said Sally, with the cheque in her hand; "George was very good to her at
the end. Did you ever notice my miniature, framed in pearls, that she
wore sometimes, in place of grandmama's, at her throat?"

I had not noticed it, and the fact that I had never seen it, and was
perfectly unaware whether or not it resembled Sally, seemed in some
curious way to increase, rather than to diminish, the jealous pain at my
heart. Why should George have been given this trifle, which was
associated with Sally, and which I had never seen?

She leaned forward and the cheque fluttered into my plate.

"Take the money, Ben, and do what you think best with it," she added.

"It belongs to you. Wouldn't you rather keep it in bank as a nest-egg?"

"No, take it. I had everything of yours as long as you had anything."

"Then it goes into bank for you all the same," I replied, as I slipped
the paper into my pocket.

An hour later, as I passed in the car down the long hill, I told myself
that I would place the money to Sally's account, in order that she might
draw on it until I had made good the strain of my illness. My first
intention had been to go into the bank on my way to the office; but
glancing at my watch as I left the car, I found that it was already
after nine o'clock, and so returning the cheque to my pocket, I crossed
the street, where I found the devil of temptation awaiting me in the
person of Sam