Mrs. Field took the letter. It was directed, in a fair round hand, to
Mrs. Esther Maxwell; that had been her dead sister's name. She stood
looking at it, her face drooping severely. "It was sent to my
sister," said she.

"I s'posed so. Well, I thought I'd hand it to you."

Mrs. Field nodded gravely, and put the letter in her pocket. She was
again passing out, when somebody nudged her heavily. It was Mrs.
Green, a woman who lived in the next house beyond hers.

"Jest wait a minute," she said, "an' I'll go along with you."

So Mrs. Field stood back and waited, while her neighbor pushed
forward to the counter. After a little she drew the letter from her
pocket and studied the superscription. The post-mark was Elliot. She
supposed the letter to be from her dead sister's father-in-law, who
lived there.

"I may jest as well open it an' see what it is while I'm waitin',"
she thought.

She tore open the envelope slowly and clumsily with her stiff
fingers, and held up the letter so the light struck it. She could not
read strange writing easily, and this was a nearly illegible scrawl.
However, after the first few words, she seemed to absorb it by some
higher faculty than reading. In a short time she had the gist of the
letter. It was from a lawyer who signed himself Daniel Tuxbury. He
stated formally that Thomas Maxwell was dead; that he had left a will
greatly to Esther Maxwell's advantage, and that it would be advisable