She looked suddenly up at Terence.

"Twenty-four years," she said, "have passed since I took you into my
life. At that time I was told that I was doing a rash thing, a dangerous
thing--that before your twenty-fifth birthday the bad blood would out;
that you would, in short, have shot a man. And the prophecy has come
true. By an irony of chance it has happened on the very last day. And by
another irony you picked your victim from among the guests under my
roof!"

"Victim?" cried Terry hoarsely. "Victim, Aunt Elizabeth?"

"If you please," she said quietly, "not that name again, Terence. I wish
you to know exactly what I have done. Up to this time I have given you a
place in my affections. I have tried to the best of my skill to bring you
up with a fitting education. I have given you what little wisdom and
advice I have to give. Today I had determined to do much more. I had a
will made out--this is it in my hands--and by the terms of this will I
made you my heir--the heir to the complete Cornish estate aside from a
comfortable annuity to Vance."

She looked him in the eye, ripped the will from end to end, and tossed
the fragments into the fire. There was a sharp cry from Vance, who sprang
to his feet. It was the thrill of an unexpected triumph, but his sister
took it for protest.

"Vance, I haven't used you well, but from now on I'm going to change. As
for you, Terence, I don't want you near me any longer than may be
necessary. Understand that I expect to provide for you. I haven't raised
you merely to cast you down suddenly. I'm going to establish you in