upon
the fulfillment by the heir of certain conditions which she said she
would indicate in writing.

I asked why those conditions could not now be indicated.

"You are all alike," she said bitterly. "All alike in your curiosity. I
prefer to put them in writing."

I assured her of the inviolability of her confidence and rose.

"Stay," she commanded. "If that girl asks you any impertinent questions
send her to me."

Her hands moved quickly as she spoke. The concentration of her voice
alarmed me so that I could think of nothing to say. I bowed and
withdrew. It was only when I was once outside the room that I recalled,
curiously enough, at no time during my interview had I seen Mrs.
Drainger's face.

Miss Emily was not visible. I was about to search for the street door
when, in her usual extraordinary manner, she appeared out of the gloom.

"What did she want?" she demanded, almost fiercely, her eyes holding me
as though they were hands.

I explained as best I could why I could not tell her.

"Humph!" she ejaculated, and without further speech led me to the door.

"There will be fees, I suppose," she said contemptuously, staring at her
hand upon the doorknob. "Do not expect much. You are the only person who
has entered this house for a year."

I was embarrassed how to reply.

"Poverty is like contagion. People flee from it," she added with a
mirthless laugh, and opened the door.

I bade her farewell. She stared at me, a shrewd look in her black eyes,
but said nothing. The instant I was on the porch the door was shut and
locked behind me.

III

On my way to Jedfrey's office I could not shake off my unfavorable
impression of Miss Drainger. I assured myself again and again that the
oddity of their manner of life was sufficient reason for her
peculiarities, and yet the same picture of her kept recurring to my
mind--a vision of her flitting to and fro in that great house like a
monstrous evil moth. I imagined her pale face with its spots of rouge
and her lemon dress so unlike any costume I had ever seen. I pictured
her materializing, as I phrased it, out of the shadows; hovering
expectantly (I knew not why) over the gaunt form in the great chair by
the window; or peering out of the unopened shutters as she moved from
room to room. I positively grew ashamed of myself for my fancies.

The following morning a square, yellowed envelope (everything about that
place seemed to lack freshness), addressed in the f