Of course, she did not once dream that her father’s will had been tampered with since his death.
After the reading of the will, those who had been invited to be present during that formality took their leave, and Allison found herself alone with the man to whom, for the next six or seven years, she was to look for the management of her affairs.
He now remained with her for a half-hour or more, consulting her wishes with a gentle deference which disarmed her, and made her feel that perhaps, after all, he might be a very agreeable sort of person to have for a guardian.
He came again the next day and every day throughout the week—always upon some business which he contrived to make so interesting that Allison really began to look forward to his coming and to greet him with a growing cordiality and frankness that made the man’s heart burn with eager hope and the belief that he was destined to win the great stakes which for years he had been playing.
One morning, after an unusually entertaining call he arose to leave, remarking, in a laughing way:
“Well, Allison, I begin to think you would make quite a business woman with the right coaching; you have been quite an apt pupil during the last few days.”
She glanced up at him with a smile, and then a sob burst involuntarily from her.
The man started, and bent a tender look upon her.
“Dear child, what is it?” he questioned, earnestly.