"I will deliver the message, and, if possible, prevail on him to come," I promised, and then hastily left the house. When I reached home I went directly to the library where I found Mr. Winthrop. He looked surprised to see me back so soon, and then, noticing traces of tears on my face, said: "What is wrong, little one?" "Mrs. Le Grande died sometime during the night. The nurse told me she showed no anxiety respecting her future state." He was silent. At last I said: "You have forgiven her, Mr. Winthrop?" "Forgiven her! Yes, Medoline; and if she had lived, I could never have repaid her for the lesson she taught me, and the favor she conferred on me by going away so abruptly." "Then you will grant her last request that we should both attend her funeral, and the reading of her will. I have an impression she has left each of us some keepsake, as a token of her repentance." "Don't you think, little one, that would be a mercenary motive to take us there?" "But I want you to grant her dying request," I murmured, already ashamed of my argument. "We will both go, assuredly; and in the meantime I shall see that preparations for her funeral are suitably arranged." "You will look upon her dead face; she left directions as to how she should be robed for the grave. She said you should see your bride in her wedding dress at last." "I expect, before many weeks, to see my own precious bride. I shall be indifferent as to her dress. It will be herself I shall look at," he said with a caress that for the time made me forget Mrs. Le Grande. We went to the funeral, to which went also a good part of the townsfolk; for curiosity was on tip-toe. Thomas was greatly mystified when Mr. Winthrop, leaving Mrs. Flaxman at Oaklands, bade him drive us back to Linden Lane. Dr. Hill was there, and Mrs. Le Grande's lawyer from New York, and Dr. Townshend, who had drawn her will, with the nurse and landlady, who were her witnesses. Presently the lawyer put on his spectacles, and broke the seal, and then in a hard, dry voice began to read the will. I listened with languid interest until presently Mr. Winthrop's name was mentioned. I looked at him with keen surprise. Could it be possible Mrs. Le Grande had willed him the bulk of her fortune? His face was pale, I could see no trace of a satisfaction one might naturally expect on the face of another at such unexpected accession of wealth; rather he looked grieved and shocked. Before I had time to recover myself my own name was read off in the even, unimpassioned tones of the lawyer. She left me her jewelry, pictures, and other valuables. It seemed like one of the fairy tales of my childhood. There was something pathetic, too, in the wording of her will: "I hope they will adorn a happier woman than I have been," as if that, too, were a legacy she bequeathed me.