At this point in the conversation, Bridget entered, bringing a
letter which bore the India post-mark, together with the
unmistakable handwriting of Nathaniel Deane!

"A letter from Uncle Nat, as I live!" exclaimed Eugenia. "What
_is_ going to happen? He hasn't written before in years. I do
wish I knew when he expected to quit this mundane sphere, and how
much of his money he intends leaving me!"

By this time Mrs. Deane had broken the seal, uttering an
exclamation of surprise as a check for $500 fell into her lap.

"Five hundred dollars!" screamed Eugenia, catching up the check
and examining it closely, to see that there was no mistake. "The
old miser has really opened his heart. Now, we'll have some
_genuine_ silver forks for our best company, so we shan't be
in constant terror lest some one should discover that they are
only plated. I'll buy that set of _pearls_ at Mercer's, too,
and, Alice, you and I will nave some new furs. I'd go to Rochester
to-morrow, if it were not Sunday. What shall we get for you,
mother? A web of cloth, or an ounce of sewing silk?" and the
heartless girl turned towards her mother, whose face was white as
ashes, as she said faintly: "The money is not ours. It is Dora's--
to be used for her benefit."

"Not ours! What do you mean! It can't be true!" cried Eugenia,
snatching the letter, and reading therein a confirmation of her
mother's words.

After a slight apology for his long silence, Undo Nat had spoken