But it was a peculiar will.
After speaking of the high regard in which he held Ronald Mason, the broker went on to say that he earnestly desired his daughter to marry the young man. If she did so she was to receive half the fortune. If she failed to do so, every cent was to go to Mason.
The brokerage business was left to him to do with it as he pleased.
When the lawyer ceased reading, Lizzie Dalton was as pale as death.
Rising to her feet she bitterly denounced the terms of the will, and said:
"I don't believe my father ever wrote such a will. He always was opposed to Mason marrying me. So was I. And what is more, if I forfeit every dollar coming to me, I'll never marry that man!"
She pointed at Mason.
His clean-shaven face was convulsed with anger.
"So!" he sneered. "That's your answer, is it?"
"Yes!" she cried, hotly. "I hate you, Ronald Mason, and you know it."