aid Deborah.
"Master did expect to have his throat cut, or his 'ead knocked orf, or
his inside removed--"

"Deborah," cried Paul, hastily, "you are making Sylvia nervous."

"Don't you worrit, pretty," said the maiden, "it's only silly old
Debby's way. But master, your par as was, my pretty, went to church and
prayed awful against folk as he never named, to say nothin' of lookin'
over the left shoulder blade and sleepin' in the cellar bolted and
barred, and always with his eye on the ground sad like. Old Baileys and
police-courts was in his mind, say what you like."

"I say nothing," rejoined Pash, putting on his hat and hopping to the
door. "Mr. Lemuel Krill did not honor me with his confidence so far. He
came here, over twenty years ago and began business. I was then younger
than I am, and he gave me his business because my charges were moderate.
I know all about him as Aaron Norman," added Pash, with emphasis, "but
as Lemuel Krill I, knowing nothing but the name, can say nothing. Nor do
I want to. Young people," ended the lawyer, impressively, "let sleeping
dogs lie."

"What do you mean?" asked Sylvia, looking startled.

"Nothing--he means nothing," interposed Paul hastily, for the girl had
undergone quite enough torments. "What about the change of name?"

"Ah yes!" said the lawyer, inquiringly. "Will you call yourself Krill or
Norman, Miss Sylvia?"

"Seein' her name's to be changed to Beecot in a jiffy," cried Deborah,
"it don't matter, and it sha'n't matter. You leave Krill and its old
Baileys, if old Baileys there are in it, alone, my lovey, and be Miss
Norman till the passon and the clark, and the bells and the ringers, and
the lawr and the prophets turn you into the loveliest bride as ever
was," and Deborah nodded vigorously.

"I wish father had mentioned my name in his will," said Sylvia, in a low
voice, "and then I should know what to call myself."

Paul addressed the lawyer. "I know little about the legal aspect of this
will"--

"This amateur will," said Pash, slightingly.

"But I should like to know if there will be any difficulty in proving
it?"

"I don't think so. I have not gone through all the safes below, and may
come across the marriage certificate of Miss Krill's--I beg pardon, Miss
Norman's--mother and father. Then there's the birth certificate. We must
prove that Miss Sylvia is the daughter of my late esteemed client."

"What's that?" shouted Deborah. "Why, I knowed her mother as died