gged Nora if she knew of its
contents to say so without further delay.

"Oh, yes?"

Nothing should induce her to show such agitation as this woman did. She
managed to assume an air of polite interest and find a chair for
herself quite calmly. And yet she was conscious that her heart was
beating wildly beneath her bodice. But she would not betray herself, she
would not. And yet her stake was as great as any. Her whole future hung
on the contents of that paper Mr. Wynne was caressing with his long
fingers.

"Miss Marsh," questioned Mr. Wynne as soon as she was seated, "so far as
you know there is no other will?"

"How do you mean?"

"Miss Wickham didn't make a later one--without my assistance, I mean?
You know of nothing in the house, for instance?"

"Oh, no," said Nora positively. "Miss Wickham always said you had her
will. She was extremely methodical."

"I feel I ought to ask you," the solicitor went on with unwonted
gentleness, "because Miss Wickham consulted me a couple of years ago
about making a new will. She told me what she wanted to do, but gave me
no actual instructions to draw it. I thought perhaps she might have done
it herself."

"I heard nothing about it. I am sure that her only will is in your
hands."

"Then I think that we may take it that this----"

Mrs. Wickham's set face relaxed. The light of triumph was in her eyes.
She understood.

"When was that will made?" she asked eagerly.

"Eight or nine years ago. The exact date was March 4th, 1904."

The date settled it. Nora, too, realized that. She was left penniless.
What a refinement of cruelty to deceive--but she must not think of that
now. She would have all the rest of her life in which to think of it.
But here before that woman, whose searching glance was even now fastened
on her face to see how she was taking the blow, she would give no sign.

"When did you first come to Miss Wickham?" Mrs. Wickham's voice was
almost a caress.

"At the end of nineteen hundred and three." There was no trace of
emotion in that clear voice. After a moment Mr. Wynne spoke again.

"Shall _I_ read it, or would you just like to know the particulars? It
is very short."

"Oh, let us know just roughly." Mrs. Wickham was still eager.

"Well, Miss Wickham left one hundred pounds to the Society for the
Propagation of the Gospel, and one hundred pounds to the General
Hospital at Tunbridge Wells, and the entire residue of her fortune to
her nephew, Mr. James