“Mother! what is the matter, mother?”

Mary Erskine liberated one of her arms, and clasped Bella with it fondly, but did not raise her head, or answer.

“Go and get some flowers for your mother,” said Mrs. Bell, “like those which you got for the baby.”

“Well,” said Bella, “I will.”  So she turned away, and went singing and dancing out of the room.

“Mary,” said Mrs. Bell.  “I wish that you would shut up this house and take the children and come to my house, at least for a while, until you can determine what to do.”

Mary Erskine shook her head, but did not reply.  She seemed, however, to be regaining her composure.  Presently she raised her head, smoothed down her hair, which was very soft and beautiful, readjusted her dress, and sat up, looking out at the window.

“If you stay here,” continued Mrs. Bell, “you will only spend your time in useless and hopeless grief.”

“No,” said Mary Erskine, “I am not going to do any such a thing.”

“Have you begun to think at all what you shall do?” asked Mrs. Bell.

“No,” said Mary Erskine.  “When any great thing happens, I always have to wait a little while till I get accustomed to knowing that it has happened, before I can determine what to do about it.  It seems as if I did not more than half know yet, that Albert is dead.  Every time the door opens I almost expect to see him come in.”

“Do you think that you shall move to the new house?” asked Mrs. Bell.

“No,” said Mary Erskine, “I see that I can’t do that.  I don’t wish to move there, either, now.”

“There’s one thing,” continued Mrs. Bell after a moment’s pause, “that perhaps I ought to tell you, though it is rather bad news for you.  Mr. Keep says that he is afraid that the will, which Albert made, is not good in law.”

“Not good!  Why not?” asked Mary Erskine.

“Why because there is only one witness The law requires that there should be three witnesses, so as to be sure that Albert really signed the will.”

“Oh no,” said Mary Erskine.  “One witness is enough, I am sure.  The Judge of Probate knows you, and he will believe you as certainly as he would a dozen witnesses.”

“But I suppose,” said Mrs. Bell, “that it does not depend upon the Judge of Probate.  It depends upon the law.”

Mary Erskine was silent.  Presently she opened her drawer and took out the will and looked at it mysteriously.  She could not read a word of it.

“Read it to me, Mrs. Bell,” said she, handing the paper to Mrs. Bell.

Mrs. Bell read as follows: 

    “I bequeath all my property to my wife, Mary Erskine.  Albert
    Forester.  Witness, Mary Bell.”

“I am sure that is all right,” said Mary Erskine.  “It is very plain, and one witness is enough.  Besides, Albert would know how it ought to be done.”

“But then,” she continued after a moment’s pause, “he was very sick and feeble.  Perhaps he did not think.  I am sure I shall be very sorry if it is not a good will, for if I do not have the farm and the stock, I don’t know what I shall do with my poor children.”