CHAPTER XVI.

The will disinheriting Faynie.

As soon as the men had quitted the private office Kendale sprang to his feet and began pacing up and down the length of the room excitedly, muttering under his breath: 

    “’Ah, what a fatal web we weave
    When first we practice to deceive.’

“It seems to me that there are traps in every direction to catch me.  I must be extra shrewd.  I’ll have those confounded bells changed at once.  I shouldn’t be at all surprised to find an electric bell connected with that chair at the desk which would call up the entire fire force of the city if I were to lean back far enough in it.”

He flung himself down in his seat again and took up the letter which he had been perusing and which interested him so.

When he had first broken the seal of this missive his heart had fairly jumped into his throat; at the first glance he saw that it was from Mrs. Fairfax, of Beechwood.

He read it carefully through fully a half dozen times.  It ran as follows: 

“My dear Mr. Armstrong:  I wish to extend to you my sincere congratulations over your good fortune in succeeding to the business of my dear old friend and neighbor, Mr. Marsh, late of Beechwood village.  I feel as though I know you well from hearing him speak so continually of you.  I am indeed thankful that his business fell into the hands of one whom he trusted so deeply.

“It was his wish, long ago, that we should meet and know each other, and in remembrance of this, his earnest and oft-repeated wish, I now extend you a cordial invitation to visit our home at Beechwood at your earliest convenience and dine with the family.  My daughter and I will have a most hearty welcome for you.  Any date convenient to you which you may set will be agreeable to us.

     “Trusting that we may have the pleasure of seeing you very soon, I
     remain, yours very truly,

     “Mrs. Horace Fairfax, Beechwood.”

The bogus Lester Armstrong laid the letter down and looked abstractedly out of the window.

“Of all places in the world, to think that I should be invited there,” he mused.  “While I have just been wondering how they took Faynie’s elopement—­and never hearing from her since—­and wondering how in the world I was to discover all that—­lo! a way is opened to me!”

Then his thoughts flew back to that stormy wedding night, and that midnight scene in the little inn, when the girl he had just wedded, believing her to be an heiress, revealed to him the exasperating truth, that only that night her father had disinherited her, making a new will in favor of her stepmother and her daughter Claire.  The plan which Halloran had laid out was to wait a reasonable time, then put in an appearance, stating that he was Faynie’s husband, and that she had just died, and claim her portion of the estate.  Every detail had been most carefully mapped out; but here he saw an easier way of gaining that same fortune without the trouble of litigation—­marry the girl Claire.