Several were receipted bills; but then she came to her mother's
handwriting, and read her conciliatory note, which whetted her
curiosity; and looking further she got some amusement out of the
polite notes and offers of service, claims to old family friendship,
and congratulations which had greeted Mr. Barnes, and he had treated
with grim disregard.
Presently, thrust into an envelope with another letter, and written
on a piece of note-paper, was something that made her start as if at
the sting of a viper. No! it could not be a will! She knew what
wills were like. They were sheets of foolscap, written by lawyers,
while this was only an old man's cramped and crooked writing.
Perhaps, when he was in a rage, he had so far carried out his threat,
that Allen should remember King Midas as to make a rough draft of a
will, leaving everything to Elvira de Menella, for there at the top
was the date, plainly visible, the very April when the confession had
been made. But no doubt he had never carried out his purpose so far
as to get it legally drawn out and attested. As Mr. Richards had
said, he had never been in health to take any active measures, and
probably he had rested satisfied with this relief to his feelings.
Should she show it to her mother and uncle, and let them know their
narrow escape? No.
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