“For my part, I do not think that anything can be more important to you, in present circumstances than the inheritance of a large fortune. It is an inheritance, I suppose?”
“Oh yes, sir,—from my grand-uncle, a merchant of San Francisco.”
“And how large is the fortune?”
“I do not know, sir—some millions, I think. Here are the lawyer’s letters. I have not looked at them yet,” said Drusilla, putting the “documents” in the hands of her old friend.
“Astounding indifference!” he murmured to himself as he put on his spectacles and opened the letters.
Drusilla and Anna watched him attentively.
“Why, my dear child, you are a billionaire! You are probably the wealthiest woman in America!” exclaimed the General, in astonishment. “That is, if there is no mistake!” he added. “Are you sure you are the right heiress?” taking off his spectacles and gazing at Drusilla.
“I am quite sure, sir. There are too few of us to afford room for confusion. In my grand-uncle’s generation, there were but two of the family left—himself and his only brother, my grandfather. My grand-uncle, being a woman hater, lived and died a bachelor. My grandfather married, and had one only child—my father: who, in his turn, also married, and had one only child—myself. You see how plain and simple is the line of descent?”
“I see,” said the General, reflectively; “but, my dear, it is not sufficient for a set of facts to be true in themselves, they must be capable of being proved to the satisfaction of a court of law. Can all these births, marriages, and deaths be proved, Drusilla?”
“Oh, yes sir; there are so few of them—they have occurred within so short a time, comparatively speaking.”