ng, and moved
thereunto by a desire to make my peace with God for my sins before I
give up this mortal flesh, declare this to be my last will and
testament. I give and bequeath to my niece, Rose Fletcher, the
daughter of my beloved sister, deceased, my entire property, real and
personal, to her and her heirs forever. And I hereby appoint Sidney
Meeks, Esquire, as my executor.

"(Signed) Abrahama White."

Sylvia read the will in her thin, strained voice, very clearly. Every
word was audible. Then she spoke again. "I have kept it secret all
this time," said she. "My husband knew nothing of it. I kept it from
him. I tried to hide from God and myself what I was doing, but I
could not. Here is the will, and Miss Rose Fletcher, who stands
before you, about to be united to the man of her choice, is the owner
of this house and land and all the property which goes with it."

She stopped. There was a tense silence. Then Sidney Meeks spoke.
"Mrs. Whitman," he said, "may I trouble you for the date of that
document you hold, and also for the names of the witnesses?"

Sylvia looked at Sidney in bewilderment, then she scrutinized the
will. "I don't see any date," she said, at last, "and there is no
name signed except just Abrahama's."

Meeks stepped forward. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "Mrs. Whitman
has, I am pleased to say, been under quite unnecessary anxiety of
spirit. The document which she holds is not valid. It is neither
dated nor signed. I have seen it before. The deceased lady, Miss
Abrahama White, called me in one morning, shortly before her death,
and showed me this document, which she had herself drawn up, merely
to make her wishes clear to me. She instructed me to make out a will
under those directions, and I was to bring it to her for her
signature, and produce the proper witnesses. Then, the next day, she
called me in to inform me that there had been a change in her plans
since she had heard of her niece's having a fortune, and gave me
directions for the later will, which was properly made out, signed,
witnessed, and probated after Miss White's decease. Mrs. Whitman is
the rightful heir; but since she has labored under the delusion that
she was not, I am sure we all appreciate her courage and sense of
duty in making the statement which you have just heard from her lips."

Sylvia looked at the lawyer, and her face was ghastly. "Do you mean
to say that I have been thinking I was committing theft, when I
was