But before I go I want to give another a chance to do what I have never done--enjoy my money--if such a thing can give enjoyment. A great share of my hard-earned dollars will go in salaries to fat officials and well-fed directors of the institutions I have endowed, but the little I have given you I want you to spend as you see fit. Throw it to the winds, if you so desire, or feed it to the squirrels in Central Park. I am looking forward to enjoyment in seeing the way you spend the money. They say when we have passed over the river that the things of this world will no longer interest us; but, Drusilla, that is not true. I know my days will be spent leaning over the battlements watching the fools striving here below; and the biggest telescope in Heaven--or perhaps the other place--will be trained upon Drusilla Doane. I give you a few words of advice. Better allow Thornton to act as your business manager. He is an old fool but honest. But follow your own wishes in all things except in actual business. I have directed that all the expenses of the place at Brookvale shall be met from a trust that I have created, as you are far too old to be worried with the details of the new life which you now will enter. Thornton is a nosy man and it will delight his soul to boss your servants and see that cheating tradesmen are kept in check. Another thing I wish to say--you can act upon it as you see fit--it is simply the advice of an old man who has known his world. _Don't_ subscribe to public charities; they're mostly grafts, and besides they have more of the Doane millions now than is good for them. And _don't_ help the needy poor upon another man's advice; _see your poor--know your poor_. And now, Drusilla Doane, good-by. Enjoy my million! Don't make too big a fool of yourself, nor marry your tango teacher, but spend my million, Drusilla, _spend it_--and may God rest your soul! There was quiet for a few moments after Mr. Thornton had finished reading the letter. He folded the paper and then said dryly: "I'm glad to know that my client appreciated and recognized my abilities, at least along some lines." He turned to Drusilla, who seemed hardly to realize or understand the contents of the letter. "Shall I file the letter along with the other papers, or do you wish to keep it?" he asked. Drusilla took the letter, and folded it and refolded it, looking down at it as if it were a thing alive. "If you don't mind, Mr. Thornton, I should like to keep it," she said. "He meant well by me, and his letter is kind though he said it in a queer way; but it is the first letter I've had from any one for a long time, and I should like to keep it. It makes it all seem more real." The lawyer rose. "Now we will leave you. When will you be ready to come with us to New York?" Drusilla smiled her soft sweet smile. "I haven't much to get ready, Mr. Thornton. It won't take me long to pack my things." "Then shall we say that I may come for you to-morrow?"