“Read to me,” he said, “I am tired thinking; but first lock the bureau and give me the keys; you left them hanging in the lock.  I have never taken my eyes from them.  Now I have them,” he added, putting them under his pillow, “I can rest.  Here, take this”—­handing her the will:  “put it in the drawer of my writing-table; we may want it to morrow; and I do not wish that bureau opened again; everything is there.”

Having placed the will as he desired, Katherine began to read, and the rest of the day passed as usual.

She could not, however, prevent herself from listening for Mr. Newton’s knock.  She felt sure he would hasten to his client as soon as he had read his note.  He would be but too glad to draw up another and a juster will.

Without a word, without the slightest profession of friendship, Newton had managed to impress Katherine with the idea that he was anxious to induce Mr. Liddell to do what was right to his brother’s widow and daughter.

But night closed in, and no Mr. Newton came.  Mr. Liddell was unusually wakeful and restless, and seemed on the watch himself, his last words that night being, “I am sure Newton will be here in good time to-morrow.”

Instead, the morrow brought a dapper and extremely modern young man, the head of the firm in right of succession, his late father having founded the house of Stephens & Newton.

Mr. Liddell had just been made comfortable in his great invalid’s chair by the fire, having risen earlier than usual in expectation of Mr. Newton’s visit.  When this gentleman presented himself, Katherine observed that her uncle was in a state of tremulous impatience, and the moment she saw the stranger she felt that some unlucky accident had prevented Newton from obeying his client’s behest.

“Who—­what?” gasped Mr. Liddell, when a card was handed to him.  “Read it,” to Katherine.

“Mr. Stephens, of Stephens & Newton, Red Lion Square,” she returned.

“I will not see him, I do not want him,” cried her uncle, angrily.  “Where is Newton?  Go ask him?”

With an oppressive sense of embarrassment, Katherine went out into the hall, and confronted a short, slight young man with exceedingly tight trousers, a colored cambric tie, and a general air of being on the turf.  He held a white hat in one hand, and on the other, which was ungloved, he wore a large seal ring.  Katherine did not know how to say that her uncle would not see him, but the stranger took the initiative.

“Aw—­I have done myself the honor of coming in person to take Mr. Liddell’s instructions, as Mr. Newton was called out of town by very particular business yesterday morning.  I rather hoped he might return last night, but a communication this morning informs us he will be detained till this afternoon, not reaching town till 9.30 P.M.  I am prepared to execute any directions in my partner’s stead.”

He spoke with an air of condescension, as if he did Mr. Liddell a high honor, and made a step forward.  Katherine did not know what to say.  It was terrible to keep this consequential little man in the hall, and there was literally nowhere else to take him.