“Then we shall do the best we can without it,” he answered cheerily, turning to the table and taking up a roll of papers tied together with a bit of red tape. “Have you looked at this?” “No--yes, but only with care enough to make sure that the deed of gift was not among them. But the will--if it is not found, does not the law give everything to father’s relatives? and will not that make this--this secret of mine public?” she asked, speaking with difficulty, as if the subject were almost too painful for discussion. Espy started, and dropped the packet upon the floor; but recovering himself, stooped to pick it up, saying with determination: “But we _will_ find it; of course it must be here or somewhere about the house. Cheer up, Floy dear, and let us go to work.” They spent the greater part of three days at their task. Every paper was unfolded, shaken out, examined and re-examined, every nook and corner diligently ransacked, and thorough but unavailing search made for secret drawers, yet neither will nor deed of gift could be found. At last they were forced to the conclusion that the deed of gift was irrecoverably lost; the will also, if it had ever existed, which seemed very doubtful. “Ah, what success to-day?” asked the elder Mr. Alden, coming in upon them as they were slowly replacing the papers in the secretary, almost hoping, even against hope, to yet come upon the missing papers. “None, sir,” answered Espy. “What! no will? Surely you must have overlooked it. Mrs. Kemper you say, Floy, told you there was one--just such as Mr. Kemper had told me he purposed making--and he could have no motive for concealing it. Let me think; possibly he may have carried it on his person. Have you examined the pockets of--” “No!” cried Espy, starting up with animation. “Floy--” “Oh, I cannot!” she groaned, hiding her face. “No, no, assuredly not; forgive me, darling,” he whispered, bending over her; “but may I?” She gave a silent assent, and he and his father left the room. In a few moments they returned, Espy carrying a large-sized pocket-book, old and worn, which he placed in Floy’s hands, saying, “This is all we found. It is for you to open and examine it.” She did so, her tears dropping over it all the time. It contained a little change and a few papers of no great importance--receipted bills, memoranda, etc. “It is not here; he never made it,” she said huskily, pushing the book and its contents from her. “Ah, father, father, what has your neglect cost me!” “Don’t be so distressed, child; there is really no occasion,” said Mr. Alden soothingly. “I don’t know why, as I told Espy yesterday, you and he have taken so much trouble to hunt for the will, as, you being the only child, the law gives all to you in case your father died intestate, as it seems he did.” She lifted her white face, which she had hidden in her hands; she would not see Espy’s imploring look. “No, Mr. Alden, you mistake,” she said; “I, lacking the will, am not the heir.”