sband, Anne
had but one way of looking at it. Braden had been forced to operate
against his will, against his best judgment. He was to be pitied. His
grandfather had failed in his attempt to corrupt the souls of others in
his desire for peace, and there remained but the one cowardly alternative:
the appeal to this man who loved him. In his extremity, he had put upon
Braden the task of performing a miracle, knowing full well that its
accomplishment was impossible, that failure was as inevitable as death
itself.

The thought never entered her mind that in persuading Braden to perform
this strange act of mercy her husband may have been moved by the sole
desire to put the final touch to the barrier he had wrought between them.
The fact that Braden was responsible for his death had no sinister meaning
for her. It was the same as if he had operated upon a total stranger with
a like result and with perhaps identical motives.

She kept on saying to herself that she had given up hope of ever regaining
the love she had lost. She tried to remember just when she had ceased to
hope. Was it before or after that last conversation took place in the
library? Hope may have died, but he was alive and she was alive. Then how
could love be dead?

It was Simmy Dodge who prevailed upon Braden to be present at the reading
of the will. Simmy was the sort of man who goes about, in the goodness of
his heart, adjusting matters for other people. He constituted himself in
this instance, however, as the legal adviser of his old friend and
companion, and that gave him a certain amount of authority.

"And what's more," he said in arguing with the obdurate Braden, "we'll
probably have to smash the will, if, as you say, you have been cut off
without a nickel. You--"

"But I don't want to smash it," protested Braden.

"And why not?" demanded Simmy, in surprise. "You are his only blood
relation, aren't you? Why the deuce should he leave everything away from
you? Of course we'll make a fight for it. I've never heard of a more
outrageous piece of--"

"You don't understand, Simmy," Braden interrupted, suddenly realising that
his position would be a difficult one to explain, even to this good and
loyal friend. "We'll drop the matter for the present, at any rate."

"But why should Mr. Thorpe have done this rotten, inconceivable thing to
you, Brady?" demanded Dodge. "Good Lord, that will won't stand a minute in
a court of--"

"It will stand so far as