The moment the tramp of the horse's hoofs sounded on the gravel outside, she was alert and called to Melvina, stationed at the window: "Is that Tony?" "Yes, marm." "Has he got Mr. Benton with him?" "Yes, Miss Webster. An' there's somebody else, too." "That's good. Show Mr. Benton right up here. You needn't wait. I'll call you when I need you. Let the other man sit in the kitchen 'til we want him." Whatever the mysterious business was, it took no great while, for before an hour had passed Melvina, waiting in the hall outside the chamber door, heard a shrill summons. "You can come in now, Melviny," Ellen said. "There's something here I want you should put your name to; an' you can fetch that man who's downstairs, an' Tony." "All right." When, however, a few seconds later Melvina, accompanied by the stranger and the wondering Portuguese boy, entered the patient's room, it was Mr. Benton who stepped into the foreground and who came obsequiously forward, pen in hand, to address the attendant. "The paper which you are about to sign, Miss Grey," he began pompously, "is----" But Ellen cut short his peroration. "It don't make no difference to Melviny what it is, Mr. Benton," she said impatiently. "All she's got to do is to watch me write my name, an' then put hers down where you tell her, together with Tony an' the other witness. That will end it." "But don't you think, Miss Webster, that in justice to Miss Grey, you should inform her----" "No, I don't," snapped Ellen. "Melviny don't care nothin' about my affairs. I'll write my name. Then you can give her the pen an' let her sign. That's all she's got to do." Although Mr. Benton was a man of heavy, impressive appearance, he was in reality a far less effectual person to combat opposition than he seemed, and sensing that in the present instance it was easier to yield than to argue, he allowed himself to be cowed into submission and meekly gave the pen to Melvina who with blind faith inscribed her name on the crisp white paper in a small cramped hand. Caleb Saunders, the witness Mr. Benton had brought with him, next wrote his name, forming each letter with such conscientiousness that Ellen could hardly wait until the painstaking and elaborate ceremonial was completed. "Now let Tony sign," she ordered imperiously. "He needn't stop to wash his hands. A little dirt won't be no hindrance, an' I'm in a hurry to get this thing out of the way so Mr. Benton can go back."