use it is other than a noble one, but
'that she may the better devote herself to the duties of her new
position and by her beneficence and charity remove the stain left upon
an honored name by my second wife, the Duchesse D'Argens'."

The marquis' reference to "charity" and "beneficence" was in such
ill-accord with his character that it might be suspected an adroit
attorney, in drawing up the document, had surreptitiously inserted it.
His proud allusion to his honored name and slurring suggestion of the
taint put upon it by his second wife demonstrated the marquis was not
above the foibles of his kind, overlooking his own light conduct and
dwelling on that of his noble helpmate. It was the final taunt, and,
as the lady had long since been laid in God's Acre, where there is
only silence divine, it received no answer, and the world was welcome
to digest and gorge it and make the most of it.

But although the marquis and his lady had no further interest in
subsequent events, growing out of their brief sojourn on earth, the
contents of the will afforded a theme of gossip for the living and
molded the affairs of one in new shape and manner. On the same day
this public exposition appeared, Barnes and the young actress were
seated in the law office of Marks and Culver, a room overlooking a
court-yard, brightened by statues and urns of flowers. A plaster bust
of Justinian gazed benignly through the window at a fountain; a steel
engraving of Jeremy Bentham watched the butterflies, and Hobbes and
John Austin, austere in portraiture, frowned darkly down upon the
flowering garden. While the manager and Constance waited for the
attorney to appear, they were discussing, not for the first time, the
proviso of the will to which Straws had regretfully alluded.

"Yes," said Barnes, folding the newspaper which contained Straws'
article and placing it in his pocket; "you should certainly give up
the stage. We must think of the disappointments, the possible failure,
the slender reward. There was your mother--such an actress!--yet
toward the last the people flocked to a younger rival. I have often
thought anxiously of your future, for I am old--yes, there is no
denying it!--and any day I may leave you, dependent solely upon
yourself."

"Do not speak like that," she answered, tenderly. "We shall be
together many, many years."

"Always, if I had my way," he returned, heartily.

"But with this legacy you are superior to the fickle public