more distinctly. Some tittered from nervousness.
Henry made his way to his wife's side, but she pushed him from her.

"No," she said. "Stand back, Henry, and listen with the others. You
had nothing to do with it. You ain't concerned in it."

Then she addressed the assembly. "This man, my husband," she said,
"has known nothing of it. I want you all to understand that before I
begin." Sylvia fumbled in the folds of her black lace skirt, while
the people waited. She produced a roll of paper and held it up before
them. Then she began her speech.

"I want," said she, "before all this company, before my old friends,
and the friends of these two young people who are about to be
married, to make my confession. I have not had the courage before. I
have courage now, and this is the fitting time and place, since it
metes out the fittest punishment and shame to me, who deserve so
much. You have assembled here to-night thinking that you were to be
at my house at this wedding. It is not so. It is not my house. None
of this property is mine. I have known it was not mine since a little
while after we came to live here. I have known it all belonged to
Rose Fletcher, Abrahama White's own niece. After Rose came to live
with us, I tried to put salve on my conscience by doing every single
thing I could for her. When my husband went to work again, I spent
every cent that came from her aunt's property on Rose. I gave her all
her aunt's jewelry. I tried to salve over my conscience and make it
seem right--what I had done, what I was doing. I tried to make it
seem right by telling myself that Rose had enough property of her own
and didn't need this, but I couldn't do it. I have been in torment,
holding wealth that didn't belong to me, that has gnawed at my very
heart all the time. Now I am going to confess. Here is Abrahama
White's last will and testament. I found it in a box in the garret
with some letters. Abrahama wrote letters to her sister asking her to
forgive her, and telling her how sorry she was, and begging her to
come home, but she never sent one of them. There they all were. She
had tried to salve her conscience as I have tried to salve mine. She
couldn't do it, either. She had to give it up, as I am doing. Then
she made her will and left all her property to Rose."

Sylvia unfolded the roll of paper and began reading. The will was
very short and concise. It was as follows:

"I, Abrahama White, being in sound mind and understandi