never divulged. But Joshua Twisden one morning received a telegram, couched in these terms—
"Destroy second will at once. Bring first will with you to Farley to-day, if possible; if not, to-morrow.—William Shaw."
The old solicitor was fairly well again now; George was with him, and hard at work. He could leave all in his hands for a day or two; so after obeying the first injunction laid upon him in the telegram—which he did with great satisfaction—he started for Farley by an afternoon train, wiring the hour of his arrival at the station. There the Shaw brougham met him. On entering the house at Farley, his black bag in his hand, the first person he saw was Mrs. Shaw. She was standing in the hall, evidently waiting for him. The pretty little woman seamed strangely perturbed, all her brilliant chirpiness gone, a poor, draggled little bird, scared and songless.
"Did he telegraph to you?" she began at once. "I did not know———"
"Yes, Mr. Shaw telegraphed. Is he very ill?"
"I—I am afraid he is. I hardly think he is quite right in his mind; he has such strange fancies."
"Is the doctor now with him?"
"No; he was here this morning—is coming again to-night. He said there was nothing to be done but keep him very quiet. You—you will not let him talk much about business, Mr. Twisden?"
"I conclude he sent for me for that purpose," returned the old gentleman, "and I cannot prevent his doing so."
"Still, if his mind is not in its natural state, any excitement may——— Try and quiet him, will you? He
