"'But in the end a more Christian spirit prevailed.'" Mr. Homer looked down again. "'I have conquered my pride; you can imagine what a struggle it was, for you know what the Darracott pride _is_, though the Hollopeters only intermarried with us in your grandfather's time. I came out of the struggle a _physical wreck_.'" Mr. Homer looked up once more. "'But with me, as all who know me are aware, _flesh_ is _nothing, spirit_ is _all_! I have resolved to let bygones be bygones, Homer; to put all this sad and shocking business behind me, and strive to forget that it ever existed. In this spirit, my dear cousin, I write to offer you the _affection_ of a _sister_.'" Mr. Homer uttered a hollow groan, and dropped his head in his hands. "'We are both alone, Homer. My girls are married; and, though the greater portion of my heart is _in the grave_ with Mr. Pryor, enough of it yet breathes to keep a _warm corner_ for you, my nearest _living relative_. The extraordinary and iniquitous document, which I will not further describe, has laid a heavy burden on your shoulders; and I feel it a _duty_ to give you all the aid in my power in the work of arranging and classifying the collection of worldly trifles by which our late unhappy relative set such store. _I_, Homer, have _outgrown_ such matters. It is for Aunt Marcia's own sake that I feel, as you must, the necessity of something like an equitable arrangement in regard to all this trumpery. My _duty to my children_ obliges me, much against my will, to protest against Vesta Strong's having all the lace and jewelry. If she had any sense of decency, she would not accept what was clearly the raving of _senile dementia_. As to the grasping and mercenary spirit shown by her and her husband, I say nothing: let their consciences deal with them, if they _own such an article; I_ am _above_ it. "'Let me know, dearest Homer, when you are ready for me, and I will come to you on the instant. I will bring an excellent maidservant to replace the old creature, whom I trust you have dismissed ere this. If not, let me urge you strongly to get rid of her at once. She is not a fit person to have charge of you. I feel that the _sooner_ I come to you the _better_; let us lose no time, so pray write at once, dear Homer, to "'Your loving cousin, "'MARIA DARRACOTT PRYOR.'" Will's eyes were twinkling as he folded up the letter, but they were very tender as he turned them on Mr. Homer, sitting crumpled like a withered leaf in his chair. "Cheer up, Mr. Homer!" said the young postmaster. "Look up, my dear friend. You don't suppose we are going to let her come, do you? She shall not put her foot inside the door, I promise you."