"I would not advise you to. The proof of its genuineness is overwhelming. I suppose you never saw the other will?" Mrs. Preston, at this unexpected question, in spite of her strong nerves, turned pale, and faltered: "Of course not," she said, after a slight pause. "Your husband asserts positively in a note to me that he made one," said the doctor, bending his eyes searchingly upon her, for he suspected the truth, and that it was distrust of his wife that led Colonel Preston to take the precaution he had done. "Its disappearance is mysterious." "What do you mean?" cried Mrs. Preston, sharply, and not altogether without alarm. "I meant only to express my surprise." "If your business is over, I will go out." "I have only this to say, that, being named in the will as executor, I shall take immediate measures to have the will admitted to probate. Should you make up your mind to contest it, you can give me due notice through your legal adviser. In that case," he added, significantly, "the question of the disappearance of the other will will come up." "I will consult my lawyer," said Mrs. Preston. Though she said this, her determination was already made. "Conscience makes cowards of us all," and the doctor's last hint alarmed her so much that she decided to make no opposition to the setting up of the will. But it was a bitter pill to swallow. "Graves," said Dr. Townley, as he left the house, "that woman destroyed the other will." "Do you think so?" asked Mr. Graves, startled. "I feel sure of it. Let me predict also that she will not contest this will. She is afraid to." And the doctor was right. CHAPTER XXXVI ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL Andy was quite unconscious of the good fortune which had come to him. Though a manly and stout-hearted boy, he was, in fact, getting discouraged. He was willing and anxious to work, but there seemed to be no work for him to do. He would have left home some time since to try his fortune elsewhere, but for the entreaties of his mother, who didn't like to lose him. In the morning after Dr. Townley's visit to Boston, our hero knocked at the doctor's front door. "Is Dr. Townley at home?" he asked. "Yes, Andy," said the doctor, who overheard the inquiry. "Come right in. You're just the boy I want to see." Andy entered, twirling his hat awkwardly in his hand. "Good-morning, Andy," said the doctor, cordially. "Take a seat." "Thank you, sir," said Andy, but did not sit down. "What is the matter? You are looking rather blue this morning." "Faith, doctor, and that's the way I feel entirely." "You're not sick, are you? Let me feel your pulse." "No, I'm not sick, but it's discouraged I am." "Why should a stout boy in good health be discouraged?" "I can't get any work to do, and I'm afraid we'll all starve." "It strikes me," said the doctor, fixing his eyes on Andy, enjoying the effect of his intended announcement, "that I wouldn't talk of starving, if I were as rich as you are, Andy."