The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-05-01


which Sir Andrew Allison had been fol-
lowed to the grave by some hundreds of
men who had been Interested in his life
and startled by his death. Audrey and L
had been chief mourners, and Audrey,
who did not even assume the slightest
show of grief, wondered why / was SO
terribly shaken.
81 suppose it is all you have gone
through lately" she said, ''for YOU can't
be humbug enough to want us to think
you are sorry for him."
She said this as she and and one or
two far-away cousins, some old employees,
and the servants were collecting in the
dining room TO hear the will read. The
library had been first mentioned, but l
had ventured to object, and to my amaze
ment the lawyer had promptly deferred
TO my half-expressed wish that we would
not go into that fatal room. / sat down
by the fire. clasping my baby in nv arms,
while my thoughts rambed off to my poor
husband, living so weak and lonely far
away, and, sitting in Imagination beside
him, / ran through all the gamut of self
accusation and reproach, which I felt
must kill me. / did not, / dared not,
listen to the will. l knew that my own
name would come sooner or later, and
then
Presently, sooner than ! expected, Mr.
Long read it aloud with great emphasis.
Then heard my fathers name, and the
room seemed to waver and float around
me.
"When was this will made?" l gasped.
knew, but 1 wanted to stave off the
| evil moment.
Didn't you hear the date?" asked Au-
drey sharply.
81 drew it up for the late Sir Andrew"
replied Mr.. Long, 'on the morning Of
Thursday last, the 18th inst, during the
few hours of consciousness which preceded
his death, and during which time his iacul-
ties were so little impaired that / was
astonished to hear later the sad news of
bis decease."
He then proceeded, and by degrees
learned from the long involved sentences
that there was incontestable proof of the
truth of what my uncle had said about
our father, and that though l had been
ungrateful and defiant in my conduct, he
considered me honest and Trustworthy;
therefore, after a few legacies to the distant
relations, to his oldest employees and the
house servants, he left me heiress TO the
whole of his property, to the exclusion of
his elder niece. Audrey Alison. Then the
| property was specified, but did not hear
| this enormous fortune after what ] had
| done? Surely in those last hours Uncle
| Andrew must have been strangely
changed, to have made such an unheard
of reply to my furious attack
] looked across to where Aud-ey sat with
wide-open, half-dazed eyes. Yes, he had
| been true to himself; this exclusion of her
was just one of those tyrannical caprices
] which had made our lives so burdensome.
| ! really pitied Audrey, and l made up my
mind that she must not suffer from my
! fault
The short silence which followed the
! lawyers voice was broken by her.
"He was a wicked old man." she cried
| in sharp, bitter voice, needless OF Mr..
Long and the rest of them. a wicked
old mani l have sacrificed my best years
to him, and he has left me pauper; while
! Sylvia, who consulted nothing but her
! own selfish happiness, is to be million
aire. 1t is too hateful. / do not believe
| he was sane at the last"
'My dear Miss Alison" said the lawyer,
"he was perfectly sane-marvelously col
| lected. His will had been settled quite
differently; he altered it from beginning
to end but am convinced he knew what
ne was about. 1 know why he did it."
Il think / know, too, | said, with an
effort to make some amends by confession.
cit was that wretched letter. Audrey is
right; he may have been sane, but he
acted cs if"
The lawyer cast a glance of inquiry at
Lee during my words, and Lee, in answer
to this, interrupted me, or rather paused
to hear what ne was about to say.
"No, sir, certainly. l never mentioned
anything about it. Master desired !
should not; them was his first ineligible
words"
$50 / understood; in fact, Sir Andrews
solemn charge was that, after the will had
been read, and not on any account sooner,
Miss Alison was to know what had be-
come of her letter"
"Miss Allison!" I exclaimed; "you
mean me, don't you, Mr.. Long? The let
ter speak of was from me to Sir An
drew"
There is some mistake, my dear Mrs.
Ferrars," replied the lawyer, benignly.
''Sir Andrew, several times on his death
bed, distinctly asseverated that you had
borne your pow, hum-your separation
from your family with perfect fortitude;
but that he cnly knew that by side winds,
as he had had no direct communication
whatever with you since your wedding"
] stood aghast. What had become of
nv vituperative letter? Was it possible
that l was really free from the incubus
that had weighed on me so heavily during
the last week?
"Here," continued Mr.. Long, produc-
ing from his pocket-book an envelope
marked ION Her Majesty's Service, is
the document / was to return to Miss Ali
son."
With the keenest interest watched her
open it. She drew out a letter in her own
handwriting, addressed to Cyrus Holmes,
which had been returned to her through
the dead-letter Office.
"And why did he presume TO open
this" she asked, defantly. "It is the
old story, that listeners never hear any
thing good of themselves"
''Sir Andrew wished you to be told that,
misled by the appearance of the cover, he
opened the letter without noticing the ad-
dress; suppose when he saw the contents
he investigated them. He did not justify
what he had done; think he considered
he was acting according to his rights as
your guardian"
/ had no need TO see the letter itself TO
recall the outline of its meaning, which.
Audrey had written to me a little while
ago. For perhaps for the first time in my
life l felt touch of pity for the hard old
man who had been so bitterly wounded
by the heartessness OF the one person
whom he believed TO be true to him.
A. hoI 20 Grylr.