"And won't she have disposed of that?"

My companion hesitated--I saw she was blushing.
"I believe it's mine," she said; and the look and tone which
accompanied these words betrayed so the absence of the habit
of thinking of herself that I almost thought her charming.
The next instant she added, "But she had a lawyer once,
ever so long ago. And some people came and signed something."

"They were probably witnesses. And you were not asked to sign?
Well then," I argued rapidly and hopefully, "it is because you
are the legatee; she has left all her documents to you!"

"If she has it's with very strict conditions," Miss Tita responded,
rising quickly, while the movement gave the words a little character
of decision. They seemed to imply that the bequest would be accompanied
with a command that the articles bequeathed should remain concealed
from every inquisitive eye and that I was very much mistaken if I thought
she was the person to depart from an injunction so solemn.

"Oh, of course you will have to abide by the terms," I said;
and she uttered nothing to mitigate the severity of this conclusion.
Nonetheless, later, just before we disembarked at her own door,
on our return, which had taken place almost in silence,
she said to me abruptly, "I will do what I can to help you."
I was grateful for this--it was very well so far as it went;
but it did not keep me from remembering that night in a worried
waking hour that I now had her word for it to reinforce my own
impression that the old woman was very cunning.