man's desire to upset the
disposition of her property. That he had answered in the only way he
could, firmly and decisively. Unscrupulous lawyers might hold out
delusive hopes to these newly found heirs if they should fall into their
clutches; but the probate judge knew the law of the land and the temper
of the courts on this familiar topic. No, his attention had been given
to Adelle herself and to her request for his advice upon what she should
do with the property that had been given her in the due process of the
law. He realized that he was called upon to advise again crucially in
regard to Clark's Field. For he recognized Adelle's earnestness of
purpose and her pathetically groping desire for light upon life.

He had already reversed that decision about her, given when Adelle upon
her majority appeared in his court and he had had occasion to lecture
her about the nature of the fortune he was handing over to her. Then his
harsh tone had been due to a sense of futility in having been at great
pains to preserve for this foolishly dressed and apparently empty-headed
young woman a very great property. To him had come then acutely the
disheartening realization of the underlying irony of life, when such
power and privilege could be put into such futile hands. And he--the
conscientious judge--had been the instrument of the law in perpetrating
this bitter jest upon justice. But now he felt that Adelle might justify
her good fortune. For it seemed that her riches after poisoning her had
already begun to work their own cure. She wanted to rid herself of them.
That was a good sign.

Not that he sympathized in her crude plan of endowing these unknown
Clark cousins with a lot of her money. He was glad that, at any rate,
the law put a stop to further litigation over Clark's Field. If she
wanted to distribute her estate to them she could, of course. But in all
probability it would do them little good; and it might do a great deal
of harm. He was interested in Adelle, in her development and her being,
much more than in the Clark money. What would be best for her
ultimately? If he had been a conventionally minded old gentleman, he
would have urged her to bestow her money prudently upon safe
charities--perhaps create a special philanthropic trust for the
distribution of Clark's Field, after her death, of course, for the good
of education, or hospitals, or art--the ordinary channels chosen by
those rich persons who cared to alienate f