been a kind of
pitying attitude toward us in Hilton since that Sewall affair of Ruth's,
for all my efforts. This clears it up absolutely. Haven't you read the
way the thing's worded? Wait a minute." She opened her folded paper.
"Here, I have it." Her eyes knew exactly where to look. Ruth's name
appeared in the will at the very end of a long list of bequests to
various charitable institutions.

"Listen. 'All the rest, residue, and remainder of my property,
wheresoever and whatsoever, including my house in New York City, my
house in Hilton, Massachusetts, known as Grassmere; my furniture, books,
pictures and jewels, I give, devise, and bequeath to the former fiancee
of my son, now deceased, in affectionate memory of our relations. This
portion of my estate to be used and to be directed, according to the
dictates of her own high discretion, during the term of her natural life
and at her death to pass to her lawful issue.' Did you ever hear
anything to equal it?" demanded Edith. "Don't you see the old lady
recognizes Ruth before the world? Don't you see, however humiliated I
was at that distressing affair three or four summers ago, it's all wiped
off the slate now, by this? She makes Ruth her heir, Lucy. Don't you
see that? And she does it affectionately, too. I can't get over it! I
don't know what made the old veteran do such a thing. I don't care much
either. All I know is, that we're fixed all right in Hilton society
_now_. Grassmere Ruth's! Good heavens--think of it! Think of the power
in my hands, if only Ruth behaves, to pay back a few old scores. I only
wish Breck was alive. She'd marry him now, I guess, with all this
recognition. I wonder whatever she'll do with Grassmere anyhow."

"Turn it into some sort of institution for making women independent
human beings, I'll wager." I laughed, recalling Ruth's words of scarcely
a fortnight ago.

"If only she hadn't gotten so abnormal, and queer!" Edith sighed.
"Perhaps this stroke of good luck will make her a little more like the
rest of us. We must all look out and not let Ruth do anything ridiculous
with this fortune of hers."

* * * * *

Will and I went over to see Ruth that evening.

"Why, hello!" she called down, surprised, through the tube, in answer
to my ring. "Will and you! Really? Come right up."

"She doesn't know," I told Will, pushing open the heavy door and
beginning to mount.

"Guess not," agreed my husband. "Here's her evening paper