business," persisted the voice.

"Who in the world are you--a kobold--or--or--May Brooke! What on earth
brought you here?" he exclaimed, pushing back his glasses.

"I have come about that will of my uncle's, sir," said May, demurely.

"Come to your senses at last," said the lawyer, chuckling with triumph.

"I wish to take the most decided measures to set aside my uncle's first
will, having in my possession the most decided proof that I did not
burn the last one," she said, in her quiet way.

"Proof, eh! I wonder if your proof will stand the test of the law?"

"I should think so. But I can impart nothing more on the subject until
you promise me, on your word of honor, to ask me no questions. I will
promise you, on the other hand, to tell you all that is necessary on
the subject," said May, earnestly.

"Heaven save us, when women begin with law! My dear little foolish
child, _I_ am not the Law; I am only its minister, and am bound, under
oath, to perform its functions faithfully," said Mr. Fielding, opening
his eyes wide with astonishment at May's strange proposition.

"All of which I am perfectly aware; but as your honor, or the honor of
the law will not be in the least involved in this affair, I must
persevere in my request."

"You'll have your way there's not the slightest doubt--if you can get
it. But can't you trust my discretion--my judgment--my--my ahem!
friendship for you, _pendente lite_."

"No, sir; I can trust to nothing but a promise such as I require from
you; a promise which, if you knew all, you would voluntarily, from the
best and most generous impulses of your heart, offer," said May,
standing up on a chair, that she might converse more at her ease, by
bringing her face to a level with his.

"I will promise this, and no more," he replied, after thinking some
minutes. "If, on producing your proof, I find it irrefragable, and can
proceed in this matter without carrying it to court, or bringing in
additional counsel--that is, if I can manage it all myself, which I
doubt, I will be silent. Men--even lawyers, are not apt to die of
ungratified curiosity. Will that answer you, ma'am?"

"I think so," said May, after some deliberation.

"Now produce your proof?"

"Here it is, sir. Here is my uncle's will, which has been so long
mislaid. I presume this is proof sufficient," said May, spreading out
the lost will before him. But such was his surprise, and so great his
eagerness to take it