a crime!... What business have _you_,' she went on to Edward
Beechinor, 'to punish Mark just because his politics aren't----'

'That's beside the point,' the lawyer interrupted. 'A testator has a
perfect right to leave his property as he chooses, without giving
reasons. Now, Miss Beechinor, I must ask ye to be judeecious.'

Mary shut her lips.

'Her'll never do it. I tell thee, fetch another witness.'

The old man sprang up in a sort of frenzy as he uttered the words, and
then fell back in a brief swoon.

Mary wiped his brow, and pushed away the wet and matted hair. Presently
he opened his eyes, moaning. Mr. Baines folded up the will, put it in
his pocket, and left the room with quick steps. Mary heard him open the
front-door and then return to the foot of the stairs.

'Miss Beechinor,' he called, 'I'll speak with ye a moment.'

She went down.

'Do you mind coming into the kitchen?' she said, preceding him and
turning up the gas; 'there's no light in the front-room.'

He leaned up against the high mantelpiece; his frock-coat hung to the
level of the oven-knob. She had one hand on the white deal table.
Between them a tortoiseshell cat purred on the red-tiled floor.

'Ye're doing a verra serious thing, Miss Beechinor. As Mr. Beechinor's
solicitor, I should just like to be acquaint with the real reasons for
this conduct.'

'I've told you.' She had a slightly quizzical look.

'Now, as to Mark,' the lawyer continued blandly, 'Mr. Beechinor
explained the whole circumstances to me. Mark as good as defied his
brother.'

'That's nothing to do with it.'

'By the way, it appears that Mark is practically engaged to be married.
May I ask if the lady is yeself?'

She hesitated.

'If so,' he proceeded, 'I may tell ye informally that I admire the pluck
of ye. But, nevertheless, that will has got to be executed.'

'The young lady is a Miss Mellor of Hanbridge.'

'I'm going to fetch my clerk,' he said shortly. 'I can see ye're an
obstinate and unfathomable woman. I'll be back in half an hour.'

When he had departed she bolted the front-door top and bottom, and went
upstairs to the dying man.

Nearly an hour elapsed before she heard a knock. Mr. Baines had had to
arouse his clerk from sleep. Instead of going down to the front-door,
Mary threw up the bedroom window and looked out. It was a mild but
starless night. Trafalgar Road was silent save for the steam-car, which,
with its load of revellers returning from Han