She shook her head. "It relates," she answered, "to my husband's last
wishes.

She bowed to us, and went away to her own room.

The lawyer looked after her gravely and doubtfully as she disappeared.
"My long experience in my profession," he said, turning to me, "has
taught me many useful lessons. Your aunt has just called one of those
lessons to my mind.

"May I ask what it is, sir?"

"Certainly." He took my arm and waited to repeat the lesson until we had
left the house; "Always distrust a man's last wishes on his
death-bed--unless they are communicated to his lawyer, and expressed in
his will."

At the time, I thought this rather a narrow view to take. How could I
foresee that coming events in the future life of my aunt would prove the
lawyer to be right? If she had only been content to leave her husband's
plans and projects where he had left them at his death, and if she had
never taken that rash journey to our branch office at Frankfort--but what
is the use of speculating on what might or might not have happened? My
business in these pages is to describe what did happen. Let me return to
my business.



CHAPTER II