an extempore dance, the doctor meanwhile looking on with benevolent
gratification.

"Excuse me, doctor; I couldn't help it," he panted.

"It's all right, Andy. Are you discouraged now?"

"Divil a bit, doctor. It's wild I am with joy."

"And you don't think of starving yet, eh, Andy?"

"I'll wait a bit. But why didn't I know before?"

"Sit down, and I'll tell you all about it."

So Andy heard the account, which need not be repeated.

"Now," continued the doctor, "I'll tell you what plan I have for you.
Mr. Graves wants to take a boy into his store who will buy an interest
in the business and become his partner. He thinks well of you, and is
willing to take you. What do you say?"

"I'll do whatever you think best, doctor."

"Then I think this is a good opening for you. Mr. Graves wants to
retire from business before long. Probably by the time you are
twenty-one he will leave everything in your hands. You will be paid
weekly wages and perhaps be entitled to a portion of the profits--more
than enough to support you all comfortably. What do you say? Shall we
have a new firm in the village?

"GRAVES & BURKE."

Andy's eyes sparkled with proud anticipation. It was so far above any
dream he had ever formed.

"It's what I'd like above all things," he said. "Oh, what will mother
say? I must go and tell her."

"Go, by all means, Andy, and when you have told her, come back, and
I'll go over with you to Mr. Graves' store, and we'll talk over the
arrangements with him."

Mrs. Burke's delight at her own success and that of Andy may be
imagined. She, too, had been getting despondent, and it seemed almost
like a fairy tale to find herself the owner of a house, and her boy
likely to be taken into partnership with the principal trader in the
village. She invoked blessings on the memory of Colonel Preston,
through whose large-hearted generosity this had come to pass, but
could not help speculating on what Mrs. Preston would say. She
understood very well that she would be very angry.

Mrs. Preston did not dispute the will. She might have done so, but for
her fear that her own criminal act would be brought to light. Godfrey,
who was even more disturbed than she was at the success of "that low
Irish boy," begged her to do it, but in this case she did not yield to
his entreaties. She had never dared to take him into confidence
respecting her destruction of the other will.

While we are upon this