“The next work in order,” remarked the Judge’s clear-headed, resolute friend, “is to withdraw your investments from the cotton mills.  That will be a slower and more difficult operation; but it must be done, even at a sacrifice.  Better have fifty thousand dollars in solid real estate, than a hundred thousand in that concern.”

And so this further disentanglement was commenced.

Winter having passed away, Mr. Dewey saw it expedient to retire from the Allen House.  By this time nothing more was heard of his Italian Villa.  He had something else to occupy his thoughts.  As there was no house to be rented in S——­, that in any way corresponded with his ideas, he stored his furniture, and took board at the new hotel which had lately been erected.

Mr. Wallingford now made preparations for removing to the old mansion, which was still the handsomest place, by all odds, in our town.

One day, early in the summer, I received a note from Mr. Wallingford, asking me to call around at Ivy Cottage in the evening.  At the bottom of the note, was a pencilled line from his wife to Constance, asking the pleasure of seeing her also.  We went after tea.

“Come with me to the library, Doctor!” said my excellent friend, soon after our arrival.  “I want to have a little talk with you.”

So we left the ladies and retired to the library.

“My business with you to-night,” said he, as we seated ourselves, facing each other, on opposite sides of the library-table, “is to get at some adjustment of affairs between us, as touching your executorship of the Allen estate.  I have asked two or three times for your bills against the estate, but you have always put me off.  Mr. Wilkinson, on the contrary, rendered an account for services, which has been allowed and settled.”

“The business required so little attention on my part,” I replied to this, “that I have never felt that I could, in conscience, render an account.  And besides, it was with me so much a labor of love, that I do not wish to mar the pleasure I felt by overlaying it with a compensation.”

“No man could possibly feel more deeply your generous good will toward me and mine—­manifested from the beginning until now—­than I do, Doctor.  But I cannot permit the obligation to rest all on one side.”

He pulled out a drawer of the library-table, as he said this, and taking therefrom a broad parchment document, laid it down, and while his hand rested upon it continued—­

“Anticipating that, as heretofore, I might not be able to get your figures, I have taken the matter into my own hands, and fixed the amount of compensation—­subject, of course, to objections on your part, if I have made the award too low.  These papers are the title deeds of Ivy Cottage, executed in your favor.  There are memories and associations connected with this dear spot, which must for ever be sacred in the hearts of myself and wife; and it would be pain to us to see it desecrated by strangers.  In equity and love, then, we pass it over to you and yours; and may God give you as much happiness beneath its roof as we have known.”