"I'll do my best, Jane. But why are you so anxious?"
"My time is drawing near, old friend," she replied, less harshly than usual, "and this matter of my will lies heavily on my conscience. What if I should die tonight?"
He did not answer.
"There would be a dozen heirs to fight for my money, and dear old Elmhurst would be sold to strangers," she resumed, with bitterness. "But I don't mean to cross over just yet, Silas, even if one limb is dead already. I shall hang on until I get this matter settled, and I can't settle it properly without seeing all three of my nieces. One of these is too hard, and the other too soft. I'll see what Patricia is like."
"She may prove even more undesirable," said the lawyer.
"In that case, I'll pack her back again and choose between these two.
But you must fetch her, Silas, that I may know just what I am doing.
And you must fetch her at once!"
"I'll do the best I can, Jane," repeated the old lawyer.
CHAPTER X.
THE MAN WITH THE BUNDLE.
In the harness-room above the stable sat Duncan Muir, the coachman and most important servant, with the exception of the head gardener, in Miss Merrick's establishment. Duncan, bald-headed but with white and bushy side-whiskers, was engaged in the serious business of oiling and polishing the state harness, which had not been used for many months past. But that did not matter. Thursday was the day for oiling the harness, and so on Thursday he performed the task, never daring to entrust a work so important to a subordinate.