est importance still to discuss with you."

"By all means, my dear sir," said Mr. Ball with gusto, settling himself
in an attitude of attention, while Mr. Tongs also prepared himself to
listen.

"I wish, gentlemen," announced "the Golden Shoemaker," "to make my will."

"To be sure," said Mr. Ball.

"You see," continued "Cobbler" Horn, "a journey to America is attended
with some risk."

"Precisely," assented Mr. Ball. "And a man of your wealth, Mr. Horn,
should not, in any case, postpone the making of his will. It was our
intention to speak to you about the matter to-day."

"To be sure," said "Cobbler" Horn. "Can it be done at once?"

"Certainly," responded the lawyer, drawing his chair to the table, and
preparing, pen in hand, to receive the instructions of his client.

"You have no children, I think, Mr. Horn?"

"Cobbler" Horn's cheeks blanched, and his lips quivered; but he instantly
regained his self-control.

"That is my difficulty," he said. "I had a child, but----"

"Ah!" interrupted Mr. Ball, "I understand. Very sad."

"No, sir," said "Cobbler" Horn sternly, "you do not understand. It is not
as you think. But can I make my will in favour of a person who may, or may
not, be alive?"

Mr. Ball was in no wise abashed.

"Do I take you, my dear sir? You----"

"The person," interposed "Cobbler" Horn, "to whom I wish to leave my
property is my little daughter, Marian, who wandered away twelve years
ago, and has never been heard of since. Can I do it, gentlemen?"

"I think you can, Mr. Horn," replied Mr. Ball. "In the absence of any
proof of death, your daughter may be considered to be still alive. What
do you say, Mr. Tongs?"

"Oh yes; to be sure; certainly," exclaimed Mr. Tongs, who seemed to have
been aroused from a reverie, and for whom it was enough that he was
required to confirm some dictum of his partner.

"Thank you, gentlemen. Then please to note that I wish my property to
pass, at my death, to my daughter, Marian Horn."

"Very good, sir," said Mr. Ball, making a note on a sheet of paper. "But,"
he added, with an enquiring glance towards his client, "in the event--that
is to say, supposing your daughter were not to reappear, Mr. Horn?"

"I am coming to that," was the calm reply. "If my daughter does not come
back before my death, I wish everything to go to my sister, Jemima Horn,
on the condition that she gives it up to my daughter when she does
return."

"Ah!" ejaculated Mr. Ball. "And