purpose of restoring the will to the place from which she had taken it.  But oh, human frailty! the light falling on an open case of rare jewels, and some costly articles of her bridal trousseau, met her eye; then followed visions of splendor—­of such power as wealth gives—­of equipages and luxury, which swept away, like ocean-tides, the thoughts which her angel-guardian had written on her conscience.  Hesitating no longer, a smile of triumph lit her face, and crowning the spectre with roses, and wrapping a drapery of pale illusions around it, she offered herself to a martyrdom of sin, to secure her worldly advancement.

“I suppose,” said Mr. Fielding, the next morning to May, “that I shall find the will in that little closet, where your uncle kept his most important papers?”

“I presume so, sir.  I placed it there at his request, in the place he designated, after you went away, the day it was written,” replied May.

“That closet could tell strange things,” said the lawyer, “if it could speak; but I believe I have come a half hour before the time appointed, as the others are not here.”

“They are coming now.  I see Mr. Jerrold and Father Fabian walking this way, and I think that is Dr. Burrell’s carriage down the street,” said May, looking out.

“All right.  May, suppose you had Aladdin’s lamp?” said the lawyer, rubbing his hands.

“I wouldn’t have such a thing, sir,” said May, quietly.

“Why, young lady?”

“I should be afraid of the monster it might evoke.  Poor Aladdin had a miserable time of it from the beginning, in my opinion,” said May.

“Riches have their cares,” said Mr. Fielding.

“Cares without much peace,” replied May.

Just then Mr. Jerrold, Dr. Burrell, and Father Fabian came in; and after exchanging the compliments of the day with the ladies and Mr. Fielding, prepared to execute the business which had brought them together.  Mr. Fielding, accompanied by Mr. Jerrold, went up to get the will.  He had long held the most intimate business relations with Mr. Stillinghast, and was the only man living who had ever been in his confidence.  He knew the contents of every parcel and package of writing in the old desk and bureau, and could just tell where he was at fault now.  There was only one will to be found, and that was the one which the deceased had declared should be null and void.  The group below who were conversing on some interesting topic, were soon amazed to hear Mr. Fielding’s voice in loud and excited tones at the head of the staircase.  Clearing two or three steps at a time, he bounded into the room, followed by Mr. Jerrold, who was pale and silent.  He was usually a grave and quiet person, and so governed by system, that the very hairs on his head might have been said to be arranged numerically.

“Here’s a pretty thing come to pass!” he exclaimed, throwing a bundle of papers on the table; “a most beautiful kettle of fish.  The last will and testament of the deceased is missing.  Yes, sirs! can’t be found.  May, who was in your uncle’s room the last night he lived?  I say then, because the closet in which the will was placed was locked then, and the key has been in my pocket ever since.  Who was there?”