He went out, followed by Mr. Newton, and they spoke together for a few moments before the doctor entered his carriage and drove off.

“Now, my dear,” said Mr. Newton, when he returned—­the startling event of the morning seemed to have taken off the sharp edge of his precision—­“what shall you do?  I suppose you would like to go home.  It would be rather trying for you to stay here.”

“To go home!” returned Katherine, slowly.  “Yes, I should, oh, very much! but I will not go.  My uncle never was unkind to me, and I will stay in his house until he is laid in his last resting place.  Yet I do not like to stay alone.  May I have my mother with me?”

“Yes, by all means.  I tell you what, I will drive over and break the news to her myself; then she can come to you at once.  I have a very particular appointment in the city this afternoon, but I shall arrange to spend to-morrow forenoon here, and examine the contents of that bureau.  I have thought it well to take possession of your uncle’s keys.”

“Yes, of course,” said Katherine; “you ought to have them.  And you will go and send my mother to me!  I shall feel quite well and strong if she is near.  How good of you to think of it!” and she raised her dark tearful eyes so gratefully to his that the worthy lawyer’s heart kindled within him.

“My dear young lady, I have rarely, if ever, regretted anything so much as my unfortunate absence yesterday, though had I been able to answer my late client’s first summons, I doubt if time would have permitted the completion of a new will.  Now my best hope, though it is a very faint one, is that he may have destroyed his last will, and so died intestate.”

“Why?” asked Katherine, indifferently.  She felt very hopeless.

“It would be better for you.  You would, I rather think, be the natural heir.”  Katherine only shook her head.  “Of course it is not likely.  Still, I have known him destroy one will before he made another.  He has made four or five, to my knowledge.  So it is wiser not to hope for anything.  I shall always do what I can for you.  Now you are quite cold and shivering.  I would advise your going to your room, and keeping there out of the way.  You can do no more for your uncle, and I will send your mother to you as soon as I can.  I suppose you have the keys of the house?”

Katherine bowed her head.  She seemed tongue-tied.  Only when Mr. Newton took her hand to say good-by she burst out, “You will send my mother to me soon—­soon!”

Then she went away to her own room.  Locking the door, she sat down and buried her face in the cushions of the sofa.  She felt her thoughts in the wildest confusion, as if some separate exterior self was exerting a strange power over her.  It had said to her, “Be silent,” when Mr. Newton spoke of the possibility of not finding the will, and she had obeyed without the smallest intention to do good or evil.  Some force she could not resist—­or