e
room to where Telly sat, he handed it to her with the remark:

"I have the honor and exquisite pleasure of presenting to you, Miss
Etelka Peterson, sole surviving heiress and descendant of one Eric
Peterson, of Stockholm, your paternal grandfather, these legal documents
certifying to your inheritance of about one hundred and thirty thousand
dollars, besides various pieces of real estate as yet unappraised."

The effect of this announcement upon the three listeners was unique and
not exactly what Albert had anticipated. For an instant they seemed
dazed, and Telly, holding the big envelope gingerly, as if it might
bite her, stared at Albert with a look of fright. Aunt Lissy was the
first to speak, and "Good Lord-a-massy" came from her in an awed
whisper.

"Thank God, little girlie, you've got yer dues at last," was Uncle
Terry's remark, and then, as the probable end of Telly's life with them
cast its shadow athwart his vision, he bowed his face upon his hands and
added in a pained voice: "I knowed it'ud come an' we'd lose ye, soon or
late."

The pathos of his act and words, with the overwhelming disclosure,
seemed to force upon Telly the belief that in some unknown way it meant
the ending of her present home life. For one instant she looked at him,
and then the tide of emotion swept her to his side and kneeling there
she thrust the envelope into his hands and clasped his arm.

"I won't take it, father," she said quickly, "not one penny of it! It's
all yours, and I'll never leave you so long as you live, and no one can
make me!" Then as the tide ebbed, her head sank upon his knee and she
began to sob.

"Thar ain't no cause fur worryin' 'bout that yit, girlie," he answered,
placing one hand on her bowed head, "an' no need fur ye to leave us
'thout ye mind to. We want ye allus, long as we kin keep ye, make sure."
Then noting the dumfounded look on Albert's face he added, "Ye mustn't
mind Telly's ways, Mr. Page, it's upset her a little an' made her
histeriky. She don't quite understand, yit, what it all means. She ain't
much used ter havin' a fortin drapped in her lap."

To Albert the climax was not what he anticipated. If this heritage did
not relieve her sense of filial duty, he thought, what chance would his
love have? But Uncle Terry was wiser than the rest.

"Don't mind what I said, girlie," he continued, stroking her bowed head
and looking into the slowly dying fire as if it contained a prophecy.
"It was an