Carmen again expressed her desire to carry out her husband’s wishes in everything, and Mr. Sage was much impressed by her sweet manner.  When she had found out all that he knew or remembered of the new will, and arose to go, Mr. Sage said he would accompany her to the office.  And Carmen gratefully accepted his escort, saying that she had wished to ask him to go with her, but that she feared to take up so much of his time.

At the office the first will was found, but no other.  The lawyer glanced through it, and then handed it to Mrs. Henderson, with the remark, “It leaves you, madam, pretty much everything of which he died possessed.”  Carmen put it aside.  She did not care to read it now.  She would go home and search for the other one.

“If no other is found,” said Mr. Sage, in bidding her good-morning,” this one ought to be proved tomorrow.  I may tell you that you and Mr. Hollowell are named as executors.”

On her way home Carmen stopped at a telegraph station, and sent a message to Mavick, in Washington, to take an afternoon train and come to New York.

When Carmen reached home she was in a serious but perfectly clear frame of mind.  The revelation in the last will of Henderson’s change of mind towards her was mortifying to a certain extent.  It was true that his fortune was much increased since the first will was made, and that it justified his benevolent scheme.  But he might have consulted her about it.  If she had argued the matter with her conscience, she would have told her conscience that she would carry out this new plan in her own way and time.  She was master of the situation, and saw before her a future of almost unlimited opportunity and splendor, except for one little obstacle.  That obstacle was Mr. Mavick.  She believed that she understood him thoroughly, but she could not take the next step until she had seen him.  It was true that no one except herself positively knew that a second will now existed, but she did not know how much he might choose to remember.

She was very impatient to see Mr. Mavick.  She wandered about the house, restless and feverish.  Presently it occurred to her that it would be best to take the will wholly into her own keeping.  She unlocked the desk, took it out with a trembling hand, but did not open it again.  It was not necessary.  A first reading had burned every item of it into her brain.  It seemed to be a sort of living thing.  She despised herself for being so agitated, and for the furtive feeling that overcame her as she glanced about to be sure that she was alone, and then she ran up stairs to her room and locked the document in her own writing-desk.

What was that?  Oh, it was only the door-bell.  But who could it be?  Some one from the office, from her lawyer?  She could see nobody.  In two minutes there was a rap at her door.  It was only the servant with a despatch.  She took it and opened it without haste.

“Very well, Dobson; no answer.  I expect Mr. Mavick on business at ten.  I am at home to no one else.”