let things stand. He's in the penitentiary now, and
that's probably the end of him. The public seem to think that father put
him there, and that's something. Maybe we can persuade her to go after
a while. I wish to God we had never had sight of that fellow. If ever he
comes out, I've a good notion to kill him."

"Oh, I wouldn't do anything like that," replied Callum. "It's useless.
It would only stir things up afresh. He's done for, anyhow."

They planned to urge Norah to marry as soon as possible. And as for
their feelings toward Aileen, it was a very chilly atmosphere which
Mrs. Butler contemplated from now on, much to her confusion, grief, and
astonishment.

In this divided world it was that Butler eventually found himself, all
at sea as to what to think or what to do. He had brooded so long now,
for months, and as yet had found no solution. And finally, in a form of
religious despair, sitting at his desk, in his business chair, he had
collapsed--a weary and disconsolate man of seventy. A lesion of the
left ventricle was the immediate physical cause, although brooding over
Aileen was in part the mental one. His death could not have been laid to
his grief over Aileen exactly, for he was a very large man--apoplectic
and with sclerotic veins and arteries. For a great many years now he
had taken very little exercise, and his digestion had been considerably
impaired thereby. He was past seventy, and his time had been reached.
They found him there the next morning, his hands folded in his lap, his
head on his bosom, quite cold.

He was buried with honors out of St. Timothy's Church, the funeral
attended by a large body of politicians and city officials, who
discussed secretly among themselves whether his grief over his daughter
had anything to do with his end. All his good deeds were remembered,
of course, and Mollenhauer and Simpson sent great floral emblems in
remembrance. They were very sorry that he was gone, for they had been
a cordial three. But gone he was, and that ended their interest in the
matter. He left all of his property to his wife in one of the shortest
wills ever recorded locally.

"I give and bequeath to my beloved wife, Norah, all my property of
whatsoever kind to be disposed of as she may see fit."

There was no misconstruing this. A private paper drawn secretly for her
sometime before by Butler, explained how the property should be disposed
of by her at her death. It was Butler's real will masq