they hear good news."

When she was again seated in her chair and curious Mrs. Smith had
been politely expelled from the room, Mr. Thornton cleared his throat
and was again the precise man of business.

"As I was saying, Miss Doane, when you interrupted me, our late
client, Mr. Elias Doane, left this very remarkable will and also a
letter which we were to deliver to you." He handed her the letter.

Drusilla looked at it a moment as she held it in her hand. She
seemed unwilling to break its seal. But the watching men opposite her
caused her at last carefully, if not a little tremblingly, to tear
the covering which was to reveal to her the wishes of a man, who
evidently had thought of her and her happiness in his last hours. She
unfolded the two pages covered with scrawling handwriting, but her
faded eyes could make nothing of the strange hieroglyphics traced
upon them, and she handed the letter to Mr. Thornton, saying:

"I guess it can't be nothin' private. You read it; I left my glasses
in my work-basket."

Mr. Thornton adjusted his pince-nez and read:

MY DEAR DRUSILLA:

You will allow me to call you that, as it is the first and will be
the last time that I will so address you; consequently you will
pardon the seeming undue familiarity.