The short fat man bent over and impulsively patted the hands that were so tightly clenched in her lap.

"No, Miss Doane, you don't need to worry about the county house.

You're not going to it yet."

Drusilla drew a deep breath of relief, and the frightened look died from her eyes. She leaned back in her chair.

"Then I don't know what you've got to tell me. It can't be that some one I know is dead, because all of my friends died long ago."

Mr. Gale said, "Tell her, so she'll understand. You're worrying the poor soul."

Mr. Thornton took a legal looking doc.u.ment from his pocket and a letter.

"Miss Doane," he said, "did you ever hear of Elias Doane?"

"Elias Doane? No, I don't believe I ever did."

"Well, he was a distant relation of yours; another branch of the family. He thought he was the last one of the Doane name, as he never married. A few weeks before his death, hearing about this home he sent me up here to learn the particulars regarding it, and I found you here. I reported that there was an inmate by the name of Doane still living, and we investigated and found that you belonged to the family that we thought was represented by only one man, the late Elias Doane."

"He's dead, then. Was he a relation of mine, did you say?"

"Yes, very distantly related."

"Well, I'm glad I've had _some_ relations, even if I didn't know it."

"Now, we will come to the business, Miss Doane. Our client, the late Elias Doane, was a very wealthy man, very wealthy indeed. His estate amounts to many millions, and he has left a very curious will."

The lawyer opened a paper in his hand and commenced to read, but Mr.

Gale interrupted.

"Don't bother her with the will, Robert; she won't understand. Tell her about it and give her the letter."

"Perhaps that is better, as the legal terms might be confusing. The gist of the matter is this, Miss Doane. Our client, the late Elias Doane, left the bulk of his money to the many charities in which he is interested, but he left you his home at Brookvale, near New York City, to be kept up fittingly out of the estate, and he gave you outright, to use as you may see fit, one million dollars."

Drusilla stared at him. Then her faded old face turned as white as the soft hair above it, and without a word she fell forward. For the first time in her life Drusilla Doane had fainted.

Mr. Thornton caught her in his arms and Mr. Gale sprang for the bell. Water and restoratives were brought, and within a few moments Drusilla opened her eyes--and soon she remembered. She brushed back her disarranged hair and laughed a soft, sweet little laugh.

"Well, I'm beginnin' well. All real ladies in story books faint when they hear good news."

When she was again seated in her chair and curious Mrs. Smith had been politely expelled from the room, Mr. Thornton cleared his throat and was again the precise man of business.

"As I was saying, Miss Doane, when you interrupted me, our late client, Mr. Elias Doane, left this very remarkable will and also a letter which we were to deliver to you." He handed her the letter.

Drusilla looked at it a moment as she held it in her hand. She seemed unwilling to break its seal. But the watching men opposite her caused her at last carefully, if not a little tremblingly, to tear the covering which was to reveal to her the wishes of a man, who evidently had thought of her and her happiness in his last hours. She unfolded the two pages covered with scrawling handwriting, but her faded eyes could make nothing of the strange hieroglyphics traced upon them, and she handed the letter to Mr. Thornton, saying:

"I guess it can't be nothin' private. You read it; I left my gla.s.ses in my work-basket."

Mr. Thornton adjusted his pince-nez and read:

MY DEAR DRUSILLA:

You will allow me to call you that, as it is the first and will be the last time that I will so address you; consequently you will pardon the seeming undue familiarity.

I first want to say that I regret that I did not know of your existence earlier, when perhaps I could have made life easier for you --although quite likely I would have added to its perplexities. We are the last of a good family: you, Drusilla Doane, an inmate of a charitable inst.i.tution, and I, Elias Doane, millionaire, philanthropist, and rare old humbug. You have pa.s.sed your life in toil, trying to earn your daily bread, and have found yourself nearing the end of this footless journey that we call life, alone and friendless. I have pa.s.sed my days in toil also, and find myself, at the end, as much alone and friendless as is the loneliest inmate of the Doane home. I have had bread, yes; and often eaten it in bitterness. I have had friends, yes; and doubted their sincerity.

Love, wife, children, home, all have been sacrificed to pride of wealth, of power, and things--just mere things, that cannot touch the hand in times of sorrow, nor rejoice in times of joy. But I do not complain; I made my G.o.d a thing of gilt and tinsel, and he repaid me for my worship. And now I go to meet another G.o.d.

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 inst.i.tutions 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 pa.s.sed 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 G.o.d 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?"

"Yes, to-morrow will be as well as any other day. Unless--unless Mis' Smith needs me--"

Mr. Thornton said with a dry smile: "I do not think it will be necessary to consult Mrs. Smith."

The men started for the door, and then extended their hands.

"We want to congratulate you, Miss Doane. We sincerely hope that this will be the beginning of a very happy life for you. You may command me in all things. By the way, may we see the Director?"

Drusilla started to the door, but the lawyer intercepted her.