They stood
together silently, looking at the white face on the pillows.
"He is dead!" Archie said, softly: "God rest him!"
* * * * *
After the funeral of John Trevlyn, his last will and testament was read.
It created a great deal of surprise when it was known that all the vast
possessions of the old man were bequeathed to his grandson--his sole
relative--whom he had despised and denied almost to the day of his death.
In fact, not a half-dozen persons in the city were aware of the fact that
there existed any tie of relationship between John Trevlyn, the miser,
and Archer Trevlyn, the head clerk of Belgrade and Company.
Arch's good fortune did not change him a particle. He gave less time to
business, it is true, but he spent it in hard study. His early education
had been defective, and he was doing his best to remedy the lack.
Early in the autumn following the death of his grandfather, he went to
Europe, and after the lapse of a year, returned again to New York. The
second day after his arrival, he went out to Harrison Park. Margie had
passed the summer there, with an old friend of her mother for company,
he was told, and would not come back to the city before December.
It was a cold, stormy night in September, when he knocked at the door of
Miss Harrison's residence; but a cheery light shone from the window, and
streamed out of the door which the servant held open.
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