There was also a clause in which he undertook to dictate the conduct of Montgomery Brewster during the year leading up to his twenty-sixth anniversary.  He required that the young man should give satisfactory evidence to the executor that he was capable of managing his affairs shrewdly and wisely,—­that he possessed the ability to add to the fortune through his own enterprise; that he should come to his twenty-sixth anniversary with a fair name and a record free from anything worse than mild forms of dissipation; that his habits be temperate; that he possess nothing at the end of the year which might be regarded as a “visible or invisible asset”; that he make no endowments; that he give sparingly to charity; that he neither loan nor give away money, for fear that it might be restored to him later; that he live on the principle which inspires a man to “get his money’s worth,” be the expenditure great or small.  As these conditions were prescribed for but a single year in the life of the heir, it was evident that Mr. Sedgwick did not intend to impose any restrictions after the property had gone into his hands.

“How do you like it?” asked Mr. Grant, as he passed the will to Brewster.

The latter took the paper and glanced over it with the air of one who had heard but had not fully grasped its meaning.

“It must be a joke, Mr. Grant,” he said, still groping with difficulty through the fog.

“No, Mr. Brewster, it is absolutely genuine.  Here is a telegram from the Probate Court in Sedgwick’s home county, received in response to a query from us.  It says that the will is to be filed for probate and that Mr. Sedgwick was many times a millionaire.  This statement, which he calls an inventory, enumerates his holdings and their value, and the footing shows $6,345,000 in round numbers.  The investments, you see, are gilt-edged.  There is not a bad penny in all those millions.”

“Well, it is rather staggering, isn’t it?” said Montgomery, passing his hand over his forehead.  He was beginning to comprehend.

“In more ways than one.  What are you going to do about it?”

“Do about it?” in surprise.  “Why, it’s mine, isn’t it?”

“It is not yours until next September,” the lawyer quietly said.

“Well, I fancy I can wait,” said Brewster with a smile that cleared the air.

“But, my dear fellow, you are already the possessor of a million.  Do you forget that you are expected to be penniless a year from now?”

“Wouldn’t you exchange a million for seven millions, Mr. Grant?”

“But let me inquire how you purpose doing it?” asked Mr. Grant, mildly.

“Why, by the simple process of destruction.  Don’t you suppose I can get rid of a million in a year?  Great Scott, who wouldn’t do it!  All I have to do is to cut a few purse strings and there is but one natural conclusion.  I don’t mind being a pauper for a few hours on the 23d of next September.”