illy girl; "but to break a
looking-glass! You know it is a sure sign that a great misfortune will
befall us--that there will probably be a death in the family before
long."

"Oh, but such sayings don't always come true! There are often
exceptions," interposed Kate, anxious to say something consolatory, and
heartily wishing they had let the little cupid alone.

"Too bad; for it really is dreadfully unlucky to have such a thing
happen!" sighed Rosemary, with less tact.

"I know it," murmured May.

"Yes, indeed," added Anna.

Miss Graham drew back astonished. "Young ladies, I am ashamed of you!"
she said, reproachfully, and went out of the room.

There were a few moments of discomfiture, and presently the girls
concluded, one after another, that it was time to be going home.

Left alone, Emily approached the secretary and examined the ruined
mirror. It was cracked like an egg-shell,--"smashed to smithereens,"
Tom said in telling the story later; but only one or two bits had
fallen out. Idly attempting to fit these into place again, Emily
caught sight of what she supposed was a sheet of note-paper, that had
apparently made its way in between the back of the mirror and the frame.

"An old letter of grandpa's, probably," she said aloud, taking hold of
the corner to draw it out. It stuck fast; but a second effort released
it, amid a shower of splintered glass; and to her amazement she found
in her possession a time-stained document that had a mysteriously legal
air. Trembling with excitement she unfolded it, and, without stopping
to think that it might not be for her eyes, began to read the queer
writing, which was somewhat difficult to decipher:

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.
Amen. I, Bernard Mahon, being of sound and disposing mind, do hereby
declare this to be my last will and testament."

"Uncle Bernard's will!" gasped Emily. "It must be the one father
always said uncle told him about, but which never could be found.
Perhaps he slipped it in here for safe-keeping." Eagerly she scanned
it, crying at last, "Yes, yes! Hurrah! O Cousin Irene!" she called
out, hearing the latter's step in the hall.

When Miss Graham entered Emily was waltzing around the room, waving the
document ecstatically. "See what I've found!" she cried, darting
toward her with an impulsive caress.

Cousin Irene took the paper, and, as she perused it, became, though in
a less demonstrative fas