When she entered the parlour, a keen-looking elderly man rose from his seat and bowed to her. “Have I the pleasure of addressing Miss Ada Nicoli?”
Ada bowed.
“I am Mr. Riggs.” He looked round the room. “Have you any place where I could talk to you in private, ma’am?”
Ada grew nervous from fear of some bad news, but she had learnt to control her feelings before the curious eyes of the boarders.
“I have no private sitting-room,” she said, “but perhaps I might take you into the bureau.”
“Thank you, ma’am, I will not detain you long.” When they were seated in the bureau, which the lady of the house had willingly vacated on hearing Ada’s reason, he said, “I have come to tell you a piece of news which I think will greatly astonish you. I came here this morning and learnt the information from your little sisters which identifies you in my mind with the young lady I was seeking.”
Ada was turning from hot to cold and her hands were tightly clasped together.
“My dear young lady,” he continued, “I am Mr. Riggs of the firm of Jefferson Riggs & Co., lawyers, No. 10054, Broadway. Perhaps you have read in the papers of the death of an eccentric old gentleman who was a well-known figure in the Fifth stage-coach, and in Madison Square Gardens?”
Ada nodded her head. Her heart was beating too quickly to allow her brain to seize the points of the lawyer’s story.
“I was his lawyer,” he said, “and for many years transacted all his business matters, but I had no idea of his personal wealth. He had altered his will many times during the last few years, leaving his money first to one charitable institution and then to another; but in his last will, which he made as far back as eight months ago, he has left you his entire fortune.”