Hospital at Tunbridge Wells, and the entire residue of her fortune to
her nephew, Mr. James Wickham."

Mrs. Wickham drew her breath sharply. Once more she looked at her late
aunt's companion, but nothing was to be read in that calm face. She was
a designing minx, none the less. But she did yield her a grudging
admiration, for her self-control in the shipwreck of all her hopes. Now
they could have their car. Oh, what couldn't they have! She felt she had
earned every penny of it in that last dreadful half hour.

"And Miss Marsh?" she heard her husband ask.

"Miss Marsh is not mentioned."

Somehow, Nora managed a smile. "I could hardly expect to be. At the time
that will was drawn I had been Miss Wickham's companion for only a few
months."

"That is why I asked whether you knew of any later will," said Mr. Wynne
almost sadly. "When I talked to Miss Wickham on the subject she said her
wish was to make adequate provision for you after her death. I think she
had spoken to you about it."

"Yes, she had."

"She mentioned three hundred a year."

"That was very kind of her." Nora's voice broke a little. "I'm glad she
wished to do something for me."