making it clear to Mrs. Mueller, and then
withdrew to the door, where she assumed an attitude of
disinterestedness--too obviously assumed it, I thought.

It became necessary to have more light, and Emily went to the window
and opened the shutter. I turned to where Mrs. Drainger sat, the will in
my left hand, my fountain pen in the other, and in that attitude I
hesitated for a brief moment of incredulity. I thought I was looking at
a woman without a head.

A second's glance showed how mistaken I was. The thin, emaciated figure,
clad like her daughter's, in a fashion long forgotten, was, as I had
surmised, somewhat shrunken by age. Her strange hands, loosely held in
her lap, were wrinkled with a thousand wrinkles like crumpled parchment,
and yet, even in that crueler light, they conveyed the impression of
power. They seemed like antennae wherewith their owner touched and tested
the outer world. As I sought the reason for this impression I saw that
the face and head were entirely wrapped in the thick folds of a black
veil, which was so arranged that the eyes alone were visible. These
seemed to swim up faintly as from the bottom of a well.

My imperceptible pause of surprise drew from Emily that sudden in-taking
of breath I have before remarked, and I could not but feel that she
intended, as I felt, a subtle sarcasm in the sound. Accordingly I made
no comment, secured Mrs. Drainger's signature without difficulty, then
that of Mrs. Mueller (who, during the whole procedure, uttered no word),
and added my own with as natural an air as I could manage. Miss Emily
led Mrs. Mueller away and I offered the completed document to Mrs.
Drainger.

"Keep it," she said with some feebleness and then, more loudly,

"I will take care. Keep it. Make her call for it when it is time. Now
let her come to me."

My search for the daughter necessitated my going through the several
rooms, so that I had a tolerable notion of the house. Miss Emily's
inheritance would not be great, although the lot was itself valuable.
The furniture was all old and of just that antiquity which lacks value
without acquiring charm. I remarked a vast what-not in one corner; one
table promised well, and there were one or two really fine engravings;
but for the most part the upholstered chairs were shabby, the tables and
desks old and cracked, and the carpets of a faded elegance. The kitchen
into which I passed was notably bleak, and the decrepit wood-stove
seemed ne