"Better get ink, Ruth. Who ever heard of a last will and testament being written in pencil? Here! let me do it."
For a minute Annabel scratched away busily, and this is what Ruth read over her shoulder:
"TO THE NEXT OCCUPANTS OF THIS ROOM
"GREETINGS!
"To you, whoever you may be (we hope the best ever), Ruth Biddle of Scranton, Pennsylvania, and Annabel Jackson of Nashville, Tennessee, former occupants, do bequeath our good will, our confidence, our social standing (which is thrown in gratis along with the most expensive room in the school), and do entrust to your everlasting protection such of our possessions as you may find useful and necessary. The black cloths, which you will find in this secret hiding-place, fit the transoms over the door and in the bathroom. The candles you will find convenient for midnight feasts and orgies; the refrigerator indispensable for cold storage; the box couch excellent for provisions, such as Nabiscos, crackers and cookies. To you also we do bequeath the residue of our estate: the wicker tea-table; the picture of the Queen Louise; the china cat on the mantel-piece, which has proved an invaluable mascot. This together with our best wishes, congratulations, and the hope that you will continue to dispense hospitality and radiate good cheer and comfort from these portals.
"Signed:
"Witnessed by:"
"You don't mean to say you're going to give your tea-table to utter strangers, do you, Annabel?" Ruth asked in surprise.
"I don't mean to pay storage or freight on it. Certainly I'm going to leave it."
"And the Queen Louise? I thought you adored her!"
"I did once, but she makes me so nervous, eternally coming down those stairs, gazing off into the distance as if she were treading on air. I'm getting terribly tired of her."