"Oh, yes; there can be no question as to that."
It was a peculiar writing, and a very characteristic one; not easy to read until one grew accustomed to it. But at the end of a few minutes I had mastered it. The provisions of the will were simple: Elmhurst and the sum of one million dollars in negotiable securities were left absolutely to "my dear and revered Master, Francisco Silva, Priest of the Third Circle of Siva, and Yogi of the Ninth Degree, to whom I owe my soul's salvation," the bequest to be used for the purpose of founding a monastery for the study of the doctrines of Saivaism, and as an asylum for all true believers. The remainder of his estate was left absolutely to his daughter, to dispose of as she saw fit. "It is, however, my earnest wish", the will concluded, "that my daughter Marjorie should enter upon the Way, and accept the high destiny which the Master offers her as a Priestess of our Great Lord. May the All-Seeing One guide her steps aright!"
There was a moment's silence as I finished; then I glanced at Miss Vaughan. Her eyes were fixed; her face was rapt and shining.
She felt my gaze upon her, and turned to face me.
"As your attorney, Miss Vaughan," I said, "it is my duty to advise you that this will would probably not hold in law. I think it would be comparatively easy to convince any court that your father was not of sound mind when he drew it. You see, Señor Silva," I added, "that there is at once a conflict of interests."
But Silva shook his head with a little smile.
"There is no conflict," he said. "If Miss Vaughan does not approve her father's wishes, they are as though they were not!"
"I do approve them" the girl cried passionately, her hands against her heart. "I do approve them!"
"All of them?" I asked.
She swung full upon me, her eyes aflame.