Oh, I have seen it all and it has helped
me in my plan."
"Your--plan?" The question was a feeble attempt to grapple with a
situation growing too big and strong. "Your plan--what is your plan?"
"Lynda, I have made my will! Sitting apart and looking on, the doing of
this has been the one great excitement of my life. Through the years I
have believed I was doing it alone; now I see your mother's guiding hand
has led me on; I want you to believe this as--I do!"
"I--I will try, Uncle William." Lynda no longer struggled against that
which she could not understand. She felt it must have its way with her.
"This house," Truedale was saying, "was meant for your mother. I left it
bare and ready for her taste and choice. After--I go, I want you to fit
it out for her--and me! You must do it at once."
"No! No!" Lynda put up a protesting hand, but Truedale smiled her into
silence and went on: "I may let you begin to-morrow and not wait! You
must fill the bare corners--spare no expense. You and I will be quite
reckless; I want this place to be a--home at last."
And now Lynda's eyes were shining--her rare tears blinded her.
"You have always tried indirectly, Lynda, to secure Con's greatest good;
you have done it! I mean to leave him a legacy of three thousand a year.
That will enable him to let up on himself and develop the talent you
think he has.
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