“Life insurance two thousand, contracts nothing, and the house is worth two with good luck.  Take it all in—­and I reckon this is all—­we’ll be in luck to pinch a little pin-money out of the estate for Sylvia.  It’s more than I expected.  You think there ain’t anything else, Mr. Akins?”

“The Professor talked to me about his affairs frequently, and I have no reason to think there’s anything more.  He had five thousand dollars in government bonds, but he sold them and bought shares in that White River Canneries combination.  A lot of our Montgomery people lost money in that scheme.  It promised fifteen per cent—­with the usual result.”

“Yes.  Andrew told me about that once.  Well, well!”

“He had money to educate his granddaughter; I don’t know how he raised it, but he kept it in a special account in the bank.  He told me that if he died before she finished college that was to be applied strictly to her education.  There is eight hundred dollars left of that.”

“Sylvia’s going to teach,” said Mrs. Owen.  “I’ve been talking to her and she’s got her plans all made.  She’s got a head for business, that girl, and nothing can shake her idea that she’s got a work to do in the world.  She knows what she’s going to do every day for a good many years, from the way she talks.  I had it all fixed to take her with me up to Waupegan for the summer; thought she’d be ready to take a rest after her hard work at college, and this blow of her grandpa dying and all; but not that girl!  She’s going to spend the summer taking a normal course in town, to be ready to begin teaching in Indianapolis next September.  I guess if we had found a million dollars in her grandpa’s box it would have been the same.  When you talk about health, she laughs; I guess if there’s a healthy woman on earth it’s that girl.  She says she doubled all her gymnasium work at college to build herself up ready for business.  You know Dr. Wandless’s daughter is a Wellesley woman, and keeps in touch with the college.  She wrote home that Sylvia had ’em all beat a mile down there; that she just walked through everything and would be chosen for the Phi Beta Kappa—­is that right, Daniel?  She sort o’ throws you out of your calculations, that girl does.  I’d counted on having a good time with her up at the lake, and now it looks like I’d have to stay in town all summer if I’m going to see anything of her.”

It was clear enough that Mrs. Owen was not interesting herself in Sylvia merely because the girl was the granddaughter of an old friend; she admired Sylvia on her own account and was at no pains to disguise the fact.  The Bassett expectations were, Dan reflected, scarcely at a premium to-day!

Mr. Akins returned the papers to the safety box, and when Mrs. Owen and Harwood were alone, she closed the door carefully.

“Now, Daniel,” she began, opening her hand-satchel, “I always hold that this is a funny world, but that things come out right in the end.  They mostly do; but sometimes the Devil gets into things and it ain’t so easy.  You believe in the Devil, Daniel?”