fairly well. "I wish to read it to you," said he, and then, placing a chair for Ethel, and toying with his pince-nez, he continued, with a smile:
"It may astonish you—wills generally do surprise people. But, after all, mine will be found not so extraordinary. I make a few bequests, and then I—make—Miss—Letty—Corbin—my—residuary—legatee."
Mr. Romaine said this very slowly, so as not to miss its dramatic effect. He achieved all he wanted. Ethel flushed violently, and fell back in her chair. Chessingham half rose and sat down again. None of this was lost on Mr. Romaine, who could not wholly conceal his enjoyment of it. He began, in his clear, well-modulated voice, to read the will. It was just as he said. He gave a thousand dollars here, and a thousand dollars there, he left Chessingham five hundred dollars to buy a memento, and then Letty Corbin was to have the rest.
"And now," said he, gracefully handing a pen to Miss Maywood, "will you kindly attest it?"
In the midst of Chessingham's natural disappointment and disgust, he could scarcely
