"In the second place," Mr. Cutting continued, "by leaving no will, those you love will, I believe, benefit by your estate precisely as you would wish them to. The law provides for just that." O'Connor pondered long. At last he said: "Well, Mr. Cuttin', sor, if all I need is the law, I'm sorry I bodthered _you_." I ducked into the recesses of my roll-top desk, whence, after an interval, during which I could almost hear Mr. Cutting restraining his laughter (as I was mine), he replied: "No bother at all, Michael." Then he added, after a sigh, "I believe I have advised you for the best." "Ye have that, sor. And I knowed you would." Thus the matter of the will was closed, and nothing further was said regarding it. But I thought I could see there was something more on O'Connor's mind. I knew the unfinished contract was on Mr. Cutting's, though he sat and patiently awaited further developments, meanwhile passing his thumb and forefinger along a lead-pencil, which, in the passing, he turned and turned, alternately resting point and end upon the blotter on his desk. During this, O'Connor, seated on the edge of his chair, hesitated whether to rise and go, or to further unburden his mind. Mr. Cutting relieved the situation. "What is the little boy's name, Mike?" he asked. "Shure 'tis that I wished to exshplain, sor," O'Connor hastened to reply, his hesitation gone on the instant. "Whin he was born I sez to my wife, 'Bridget Ann,' I sez, 'we will name him Hinry Haitch Cuttin',' I sez. 'We will do no such thing,' she sez. 'Tim an' Mollie will name the child. 'Tis no affair ov ours,' she sez. So, sor—well—" O'Connor's finish was tinged with regret, and accented by a hopeless wave of the hands. "And your wife was entirely right, Michael," Mr. Cutting answered, quickly; "although I appreciate and thank you for the compliment you wished to pay me." He was now making marks on his blotter, the pencil in position to jot down a memorandum. "What name did his mother give him?" As the reply came, I saw him let the pencil fall. There was no need of a memorandum. "Michael Joseph, after mesilf, sor." O'Connor looked very sheepish, but there was an undernote of pleasure in his answer. "Eminently proper, and the best name he could have," said Mr. Cutting, rising, and thus supplying the necessary fillip to his client's readiness to depart. He walked to the door with the old man, his hand on the royal shoulder, and bade him a warm "good-by," sending his kindest regards and best wishes to all the members of the Royal Family, especially the Heir Apparent. Then, assuming his most professional manner, and to my surprise making ready to go out, Mr. Cutting remarked to me: