you, Miss, Dora; since he has made you his heir."

"Me!" exclaimed the young girl in a tone more of fright than of
pleasure.

"Yes; and, although the property is not of any great available value
at present, I think, if properly managed, it may, in the future,
become something very handsome," said the lawyer.

"But I am so sorry Col. Blank is dead! Why, on Cheat Mountain, he
seemed so strong and well! He was never tired on the marches, and
hardly ever rode, but walked at the head of the column so straight
and soldierly!"

The two men glanced at each other, then at her, and gravely smiled.
The regret was so unaffected, so unselfish, and so unworldly, that
each, after his own fashion, admired and marvelled at it. Mr.
Burroughs was the first to speak; and, drawing a packet of papers
from his pocket, he spread before Dora's sorrowful eyes a copy of
Col. Blank's will, a plan of the estate bequeathed by it to her, and
an official letter from Mr. Ferrars, the principal executor. This
Mr. Ferrars, the lawyer informed his young client, was a personal
friend of his own, and had placed the matter in his hands, thinking
that the news might be more satisfactorily arranged by an interview
than by correspondence.

"And, as I was coming East at the time, I could very conveniently
call to see you on my way home," concluded Mr. Burroughs.

"Thank you, sir," said Dora meekly; and then, rather sadly, but very