er lips curled into a sort of half smile. "I should like to
hear Cousin Ellen Whittredge on the will," she added. "I don't think she
cares much about the money, however; it is more that old feeling against
Dr. Fair. You remember he testified to Mr. Gilpin's sanity."

"And her son?" asked Mrs. Roberts.

"Allan? It is hard to find out what Allan thinks, but there is no
bitterness in him. He is like his father, poor man! What I am curious to
know is, what Cousin Thomas meant by saying in his will that Allan knew
his wishes in regard to the ring. That strikes me as a little sensational.
I asked Allan about it the last time I saw him, but he only laughed and
said he'd have to get it before he could dispose of it."

Miss Betty now made some motions preliminary to rising, but as if on
second thought, she laid her parasol across her knees again and asked,
"Have you heard that Patterson's daughter is here?"

"Yes, I think I saw her in the carriage with her grandmother yesterday,"
was Mrs. Roberts's reply.

This was news to Maurice, and he listened with interest.

Miss Betty shook her head. "I am surprised," she said. "That marriage of
Patterson's was a dreadful blow to Cousin Ellen."

"It seems to me she was unreasonable about it. I am glad she sent for him
before his father died." Mrs. Roberts spoke with some hesitation. She did
not often array her own opinions against those of her friends.

"I don't blame her as some do. A person of that sort, and Patterson the
very light of her eyes! How would you feel if Maurice some day should do a
thing like that?"

Maurice laughed softly. His thoughts were not much occupied with marriage.
His mother ignored the question, and in her turn asked, "Did Mrs.
Whittredge ever see her daughter-in-law?"

"No, indeed. This child was not more than three when she died."

"Poor little thing!" Mrs. Roberts sighed.

"Such a name! I detest fancy names. Rosalind!" Miss Betty rose.

"A good old English name and very pretty, I think. Was it her mother's?"

"I suppose so, but I don't know. Yes, I must go; Sophy will think I am
lost. Good-by," and Miss Betty stepped briskly down the path.

The gate had hardly closed when Maurice heard some one calling him.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw his sister Katherine beckoning.

"Maurice, Maurice, do come here; I want you to see something."

Her tone impressed him as unduly mysterious. "What is it?" he asked
indifferently.

"Come, and I'll show y