r. Townley," he said, "I have a favor to ask of you."

"I shall be very glad to serve you, Colonel Preston," said the doctor.

Thereupon Colonel Preston drew from his inside pocket a sealed
envelope of large size.

"I want you to take charge of this for me," he said.

"Certainly," said the doctor, in some surprise.

"Please read what I have written upon the envelope."

The doctor, his attention called to the envelope, read, inscribed in
large, distinct characters:

"Not to be opened till six months after my death."

"I see you want an explanation," said the colonel. "Here it is--the
paper contained in this envelope is an important one. I won't tell you
what it is. When you come to open it, it will explain itself."

"But, colonel, you are likely to live as long as I. In that case, I
can't follow your directions."

"Of course, we can't tell the duration of our lives. Still, I think
you will outlive me. If not, I shall reclaim the paper. Meanwhile, I
shall be glad to have you take charge of it for me."

"Of course I will. It is a slight favor to ask."

"It may prove important. By the way, there is no need of telling
anyone, unless, perchance, your wife. I don't want to force you to
keep anything secret from her. Mrs. Townley, I know, may be depended
upon."

"I think she may. Well, Colonel Preston, set your mind at rest. I will
take care of the paper."

When Colonel Preston died, not long afterward, the doctor naturally
thought of the paper, and, as no will was left, it occurred to him
that this might be a will; but, in that case, he couldn't understand
why he should have been enjoined to keep it six months before opening
it. On the whole, he concluded that it was not a will.

Seated at the supper table, about this time, Mrs. Townley said,
suddenly:

"Henry, how long is it since Colonel Preston died?"

"Let me see," said the doctor, thoughtfully. "It is--yes, it is six
months to-morrow."

"Then it is time for you to open that envelope he gave into your
charge."

"So it is. My dear, your feminine curiosity inspired that thought,"
said the doctor, smiling.

"Perhaps you are right. I own I am a little inquisitive in the
matter."

"I am glad you mentioned it. I have so much on my mind that I should
have let the day pass, and I should be sorry not to fulfill to the
letter the promise I made to my friend."

"Have you any suspicion as to the nature of the document?"

"I thought it might be a will; bu