“My Dear Young Friend:--Your report confirms the confidence I reposed in you. It is just the information I desired. I shall take your advice and refuse the loan. What other action I may take hereafter I cannot tell. When you return, should you stop in Albany, please call on me. If unable to do this, write me from Milford. “Your friend, “Rachel Norris.” Carl was detained for several days in Chicago. He chanced to meet his English friend, Lord Bedford, upon his arrival, and the nobleman, on learning where he was staying, also registered at the Sherman House. In his company Carl took a drive over the magnificent boulevard which is the pride of Chicago, and rose several degrees in the opinion of those guests who noticed his intimacy with the English guest. Carl had just completed his Chicago business when, on entering the hotel, he was surprised to see a neighbor of his father’s--Cyrus Robinson--a prominent business man of Edgewood Center. Carl was delighted, for he had not been home, or seen any home friends for over a year. “I am glad to see you, Mr. Robinson,” he said, offering his hand. “What! Carl Crawford!” exclaimed Robinson, in amazement. “How came you in Chicago? Your father did not tell me you were here.” “He does not know it. I am only here on a business visit. Tell me, Mr. Robinson, how is my father?” “I think, Carl, that he is not at all well. I am quite sure he misses you, and I don’t believe your stepmother’s influence over him is beneficial. Just before I came away I heard a rumor that troubled me. It is believed in Edgewood that she is trying to induce your father to make a will leaving all, or nearly all his property to her and her son.” “I don’t care so much for that, Mr. Robinson, as for my father’s health.” “Carl,” said Robinson, significantly, “if such a will is made I don’t believe your father will live long after it.” “You don’t mean that?” said Carl, horror-struck. “I think Mrs. Crawford, by artful means will worry your father to death. He is of a nervous temperament, and an unscrupulous woman can shorten his life without laying herself open to the law.” Carl’s face grew stern. “I will save my father,” he said, “and defeat my stepmother’s wicked schemes.” “I pray Heaven you can. There is no time to be lost.” “I shall lose no time, you may be sure. I shall be at Edgewood within a week.” CHAPTER XXXVI. MAKING A WILL. In Edgewood Center events moved slowly. In Carl Crawford’s home dullness reigned supreme. He had been the life of the house, and his absence, though welcome to his stepmother, was seriously felt by his father, who day by day became thinner and weaker, while his step grew listless and his face seldom brightened with a smile. He was anxious to have Carl at home again, and the desire became so strong that he finally broached the subject. “My dear,” he said one day at the breakfast table, “I have been thinking of Carl considerably of late.” “Indeed!” said Mrs. Crawford, coldly.