as you and he are left executors of my
father's will. When the month is up I will come to England, and we will
settle about getting married. This is the address of the convent as
nearly as I can remember it. Letters will reach me there."

Morris laid down the sheet with a sad heart, for he had been truly
attached to his uncle Porson, whose simple virtues he understood and
appreciated. Then he opened his father's letter, which began in an
imposing manner:

"My Dear Son (usually he called him Morris),--It is with the deepest
grief that I must tell you that poor John Porson, your uncle, passed
away this morning about ten o'clock. I was present at the time, and
did my best to soothe his last moments with such consolations as can be
offered by a relative who is not a clergyman. I wished to wire the sad
event to you, but Mary, in whom natural grief develops a self-will that
perhaps is also natural, peremptorily refused to allow it, alleging that
it was useless to alarm you and waste money on telegrams (how like a
woman to think of money at such a moment) when it was quite impossible
that you could arrive here in time for the funeral (for he wouldn't be
brought home), which, under these queer foreign regulations, must take
place to-morrow. Also she announced, to my surprise, and, I must admit,
somewhat to my pain, that she intended to immure herself for a month in
a convent, after the fashion of the Roman faith, so that it was no use
your coming, as men are not admitted into these places. It never seems
to have occurred to her that under this blow I should have liked the
consolation of her presence, or that I might wish to see you, my son.
Still, you must not think too much of all this, although I have felt
bound to bring it to your notice, since women under such circumstances
are naturally emotional, rebellious against the decrees of Providence,
and consequently somewhat selfish.

"To turn to another subject. I am glad to be able to inform you--you
will please accept this as an official notice of the fact--that on
reading a copy of your uncle's will, which by his directions was handed
to me after his death, I find that he has died much better off even than
I expected. The net personalty will amount to quite 100,000 pounds, and
there is large realty, of which at present I do not know the value. All
this is left to Mary with the fullest possible powers of disposal. You
and I are appointed executors with a complimentary le