“Now this is too interesting for anything,” exclaimed a female voice from a window overhead. “Twenty thousand dollars, really? What a romance. I must run and see Polly this minute.” “Stop her!” came in guttural command from the landlord to his wife. “And why should I stop her?” asked that good woman, with a jolly roll of her head. “Instead of stopping her, I think I will go with her. But do let us hear more about it first. What was the name of the man who left her this splendid fortune?” “Abram Hazlitt. Somebody who lived out west.” From the looks that flew from one to the other and from the doubtful shakes of the head visible on every side, this was, as the speaker had declared, an utterly unknown name. The interest became intense. “I always thought there was something wrong about Ephraim’s disappearance. No man as good as he would have left a child like that of his own free will.” “What! do you think this man Hazlitt had anything to do——” “Hush, hush.” The monition came from more than one pair of lips; and even the man with the dog looked up. A young lady was coming down the street. “There she is now.” “She’s coming here.” “No; more likely she’s on her way to tell the doctor of her good luck.” “Look, she has the same old smile.” “And the same dress.” “Wa’al she’s pretty, anyhow.” “And such a sunbeam!” Yelp! went the dog again. His master had trod on his tail for the second time. Meanwhile the cause of all this excitement had reached the walk in front of the house. Though she was tripping along in a merry fashion which was all her own, she stopped as she met Mrs. Husted’s eye, and, calling her down, whispered something in her ear. Then with a backward nod the young girl passed on, and everyone drew a long breath. There was something so satisfactory to them all in her ingenuous manner and simple expression of youthful delight.