Pneumonia, that deadly foe of hale and hearty septuagenarians, carried Mr. Homer Ramsay off within forty-eight hours in the first week of May. And very shortly after, Elizabeth received a letter from Mr. Mills, the lawyer, requesting her to call on a matter of importance. She supposed that it concerned her lease. Perhaps her enemy had bought the roof over her head. Mr. Mills ushered her into his private office. Then opening a parchment envelope on his desk, he turned to her, and said: “I have the pleasure to inform you, Miss Whyte, that my client, the late Mr. Homer Ramsay, has left you the residuary legatee of his entire property--some fifty or sixty thousand dollars. Perhaps,” he added, observing Elizabeth’s bewildered expression, “you would like to read the will while I attend to a little matter in the other office. It is quite short, and straight as a string. I drew the instrument, and the testator knew what he was about just as well as you or I.” Mr. Mills, who, as you may remember, was a student of human nature, believed that Miss Whyte lived on her nerves, and he had therefore planned to leave her alone for a few moments to allow any hysterical tendency to exhaust itself. When he returned, he found her looking straight before her with the document in her lap. “Is it all plain?” he asked kindly. “Yes. But I don’t understand exactly why he left it to me.” “Because he liked you, my dear. He had become very fond of you. And if you will excuse my saying so,” he added, with a knowing smile, “he was very anxious to see you well married. He said that he wished to provide you with a suitable dowry.” “I see,” said Elizabeth, coloring. She reflected for a moment, then looked up and said, “But I am free to use it as I see fit?” “Absolutely. I may as well tell you now as any time, however,” Mr. Mills added smoothly, “that Mr. Ramsay’s cousin, Mr. Horace Barker, has expressed an intention to contest the will. He is the next of kin, though only a first cousin once removed.” Elizabeth started at the name, and drew herself up slightly. “You need not give yourself the smallest concern in the matter,” the lawyer continued. “If Mr. Barker were in needy circumstances or were a nearer relative, he might be able to make out a case, but no jury will hesitate between a first cousin once removed, amply rich in this world’s goods, and a--a--pretty woman. I myself am ready to testify that Mr. Ramsay was completely in his right mind,” he added, with professional dignity; “and as for the claim of undue influence, it is rubbish--sheer rubbish.” Elizabeth sat for a few moments without speaking. She seemed to pay no heed to several further reassuring remarks which Mr. Mills, who judged that she was appalled by the idea of a legal contest, hastened to let fall. At last she looked straight at him, and said with firmness, “I suppose that I am at liberty not to take this money, if I don’t wish to?”