to walk on tiptoe and talk in whispers as in a house of
death. Pictures and statuary were covered with black drapery, and a
large oil-painting of John Marsh, conspicuous over the mantelpiece in
the reception room was likewise covered with crape. These certain
outward signs comforted Jimmy. Every day and every hour they convinced
him that the death of his brother was not a chimera of his disordered
brain, but something very real indeed. This sensation, this assurance he
needed to complete his happiness.

The funeral, which was a very quiet affair, took place unostentatiously
with Mr. and Mrs. James Marsh as chief mourners. The only others who
attended were some of John Marsh's business associates and the Jersey
cousins who hurried respectively from Newark and Rahway in the eager
expectation that the will would be read on the return from the cemetery.
In this, however, they were sadly disappointed. The representative of
Bascom Cooley, attorney for the Marsh estate, said that the box
containing the will could not be opened until the return from Europe of
Mr. Cooley. He had been cabled for and doubtless would return
immediately. In any case, nothing could be done now as Mr. Marsh had
expressly stipulated that the will should not be opened for three weeks
after his death. Jimmy secretly fumed at this delay, but there was
nothing to do but wait. He had waited so long that he could afford to
wait a little longer.

The days went by with exasperating slowness. It was all Mr. and Mrs.
Marsh could do to conceal their growing impatience, and, as the time
approached for the formal reading of the will, they each grew more and
more agitated. Mr. Cooley, full of importance, arrived from Europe a few
days after the funeral. He at once went into prolonged secret sessions
with Jimmy, and, when he emerged, his face wore an expression of
satisfaction not seen there in a long time. Tod, he announced, was
coming by the next steamer.

Jimmy decided to do things in as dramatic and ostentatious a way as
possible. He arranged to have the will opened in the library in the
presence of the entire family solemnly assembled. In a self-composed,
dignified manner he would request Mr. Cooley to read his brother's
testament while he, himself, bowed deep in grief in a chair would show
proper sorrow by burying his face in his deep black-bordered
handkerchief, and listen with thumping heart to the solemn message from
the dead which was to make him one of