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On this Page 4
Old Sinners
Never Die
Concluding our brilliant serial
By A. E. MARTIN
IN the light of the buggy lamps
bewilderment could be seen
on the face of every man at
the graveside. Nobody spoke.
Then Price broke the silence
with a harsh laugh. He
stooped and picked up a large piece
of flint,
"Speek's heart," he said, con-
temptuously, and dropped it back
into the coffin.
Before anyone could say anything
he had swung on to his horse, and
was cantering toward the gate.
Nobody knew quite what to do. A
few big drops of rain fell, and Cotter
at length ordered the coffin to be
screwed up again and replaced in
the grave. Burke offered me a lift,
for it looked as if the rain might
really set in, but I preferred my own
company, and walked back to the
town.
Hennessy met me as I entered
the hotel and told me that Dr. Han-
sen, who was still lying there under
Mrs. Marven's care, wished to see
me.
"He's very low." he informed me.
and he's got something on his
mind."
I went at once to the sick room
and found Burke already there.
"Hello. Ford." the doctor said
weakly from his bed. "Sorry to
trouble you. Where's Price?"
Hennessy told him he'd sent for
him and a minute or two later Price
came in. He shook hands with the
doctor.
"I've got something important to
say. Burke." the doctor said, "and
I suggest you ask Hennessy to write
it down to save time. Save my
wind, too."
As a matter of fact he was having
a good deal of difficulty with his
breathing and Mrs. Marven, who
was hovering round, suggested that,
whatever it was he intended, it was
taking too much out of him.
"No, can't wait." Hansen said.
"Never know what's coming with
this business." He tapped his heart.
"Or when," he added. He smiled
wanly at us. "Better put things
right while I can. Got your paper,
Hennessv? Writs this, and I'll sign
it." .
Hennessy seated himself at the
bedside table, and dipped his pen
in ink. . He was smoking his pipe.
Doctor Hansen said calmly: "I
killed Timothy Speek."
Mrs. Marven caught her breatn
and for an instant I thought she
was going to faint, but she took
hold of the bedpost and steadied
herself. None of us spoke, and
Hennessy stared at the doctor.
Hansen nodded in confirmation.
"Write it down," he said, and the
schoolmaster bent to his task.
The doctor went on: "It was an
accident, of course. Speek came
to me for a tonic. There was
nothing whatever the matter with
him. but he insisted that he needed
something-something to invigor-
ate him. I didn't like the man.
Never did. I was annoyed with
him for wasting my time.
"I sent it round by one of Hen-
nessy s boys who happened to be
passing. I'd been busy dispensing
and had made up a number of
medicines, and I had a busy night
ahead of me, including a baby at
Dunbar's. That's about six miles
from here, Burke."
The constable nodded: "Nearer
seven," he said.
"The baby was obstinate. I had
to hang about, and Paul Dunbar
none Help
JnHip lili^ñn eras U-'
made me a cup of tea. While I
sat drinking it. I began to think
of all the things I had to do, and
the people I had to see. It's a
habit of mine, i keep all my notes
in my head. Bad. of course, but
there you are. I began to run
through the jobs I'd done that day,
making a mental note of the ones
I had to follow up. I thought of
Speek. and began to smile to
myself as I recalled the harmless
stuff I'd given him.
"Then suddenly my heart went
cold I believed I had made a
terrible mistake in dispensing.
I . . ."
Speaking slowly so that Hennessy
should make no mistake, Dr. Han-
sen explained what he had done. My
mind flitted back to that chaotic
surgery.
When the schoolmaster had the
technical details to his satisfaction
Hansen went on: "I make no excuse
for my carelessness other than over-
work, ill-health, what you will. I
should have had a locum in a year
ago, but country people are funny.
They like their old doctors." He
shut his eyes a moment and a flicker
of a smile passed across his lip.
"I knew Speek was not a sick
. man, and when he came to me and
told me what he wanted I confers I
felt an utter contempt for him. He
treated his wife shamefully. I sus-
pected that when she came to me
for help. Her nerves were all shot
to pieces. She couldn't sleep. I
hoped Speek had not taken the
medicine I had given him. I'd made
it foul enough, heaven knows, and
some people don't, you know. But I
had to get to him auickly. but. just
then, the baby business started in
earnest.
"It was necessary to see it through,
and it wasn't easy, and Dunbar was
helpless. You know what a young
man is with his first baby. And
there was no one else.
This is Eileen, I thought - but not that other
Eileen of fifty years ago.
"I tried to explain to him that
he'd have to ride to town, but he
just gibbered at me. He's not a
clever man at any time and. just
then, there was only room for one
thought in his mind. He couldn't
take it in. I was the doctor - the
only one who could save his wife
and baby-that's what he was think-
ing. It's terrible the trust these
people put in one.
"And as soon as I could T drove
back to town. I made Betsy gal
lop. Por the first time in my life I
put the whip about her-poor old
thing. I was going straight to
Speek's when Mrs Marven ran out
into the road. She told me Sper!:
had shot himself. I thought I knew
why. The stuff I had given him
would have caused excruciating
agony. I'm glad he had the gun
and the nerve to use it. Got that
Hennessy. Thats all."
Please turn to page 12

Continuing-Old Sinners Never Die

from page 4

D OCTOR HAN

sen shut his eyes as the schoolmaster
scratched the last words. ' Give it to
me and lil sign it," he said.

"Just a minute, slr," Burke inter-
rupted. "How do you know Speck
took your medicine?"

"Because," Hansen replied,
wearily, "I found the bottle in his
bathroom. One dose had been taken.
It was easy for me to slip the bottle
into my pocket and destroy it later."

"I see," Burke said. "I'd like you
to put that in, sir."

The doctor nodded to Hennessy,
who wrote rapidly and handed the
document to him. "I'd better read
it over to you first," Burke said.

Hansen made a motion of assent.
''Hurry, please."

Burke read i« his dreary official
manner, and the doctor signed it.
"I'm sorry to have been such a
trouble to you, Burke," he said.

"What happened to Speek's-" I
began, but Price interrupted rudely:
"Shut up, Ford."

Burke was busy at the table look-
ing over the document, while Hen-
nessy dried the signature. I don't
think the doctor even heard me,
and then Mrs. Marven began shush-
ing us out of the room. The con-
stable lingered behind, and, as he
put the documeift in his pocket, I
heard him say: "I'm not quite sure
how I should act, sir," and Hansen's
voice, a little whimsical in reply:
"Don't worry too much, Burke. I
thjnk the problem will be settled
for you-pretty soon."

It was. He died that night.

At first Hansen's confession dis-
pleased me. Price was present when
Mrs. Marven came down and broke

the news of his death, and, after the
first commonplace condolences, Price
peeked at me sardonically. After
Mrs. Marven had gone, he had the
Impudence to take my arm and lead
me out on to the verandah.

He said: "This rather puts you on
a spot, Ford."

"I don't know what you mean." I
said.

His horse was tethered to a post,
and, as he threw the reins over its
head and put his foot in the stirrup,
he looked over his shoulder at me.
"Oh, yes you do," he said. "Remem-
ber-I warned you." He swung him-
self into the saddle. "I wouldn't be
in your shoes for £1000." he said.
"You and your rotten shares, you
blackmailing swindler."

Before I could do anything he had
cantered off.

I wondered what he had in mind,
and felt vaguely uneasy. You never
knew with a man like Price. Now
that Hansen's carelessness and con-
fession had cleared him and Helen,
one couldn't tell what he might
do. He was impulsive and he'd be
vindictive. And he hated me!

He would never have paid me
that £1000. Not he! He'd have let
Helen pay, let her take all the risk!

I began to feel a bit sorry for
Helen and then I suddenly realised
I could help her by buying the shares
back. I determined to have a word
with her at once. I had seen Price
ride out of the town, so went to call
on her immediately.

She was a little cool but plainly
curious. We talked for a while about

Dr. Hansen and his confession and ,
I worked the conversation round
till I could quote from the article
I had written for the "Banner."

"Perhaps you saw it," I said.

She said: "No, I haven't seen it.
I rarely do. I must get a copy and
read it."

I knew then that she could not
have seen the paragraph about the
company and I said: "I have really
come here to apologise, Mrs. Speek.
Dr. Hansen's confession puts such
a different complexion on things. I
feel embarrassed and thoroughly
ashamed of myself for my unworthy
suspicions. I feel I can only make
amends by buying back the shares.
I have brought a cheque with me.
If you will let me have the script
with the necessary signed transfers

we can complete the whole thing and
forget all about it and I hope be
friends once more.''

She said: "I think you are mak-
ing a very generous acknowledg-
ment, Mr. Ford. Appearances are
very much against us at. times. I
shall be glad to accept your cheque
in the spirit in which it is offered."

She went away and returned with
the script and signed the trans-
fers on the very table from which
I had seen her take the chocolate
box away from her husband on the
night of his death. I gave her the
cheque and we shook hands. She
actually smiled as she said good-
night.

I felt easier in mind. I didn't
think Price would try any funny
business or attempt to intimidate
me now that his woman had her
money. Certainly Helen wouldn't
want any further probing into the
wretched business. We were all
back from where we started, and

Price would simply find later that I'd
had the laugh on him.

I wondered whether Eileen had
recovered from th 3 shock she had
received at Boldini's seance and I
determined to see her. I could
no longer bring myself to believe
that she would throw me over for
a penniless ne'er-do-well.

I had already written her a dig-
nified note deploring her decision
and her action in returning my ring,
and had asked her to consider the
matter in the light of the promise
she had made over the bed of her
dying father. I asked her not to
throw away her life and face a
future of poverty when she had
only to say the word and I would
freely forgive everything.

She had not replied to that, and,
as I walked to her home, I supposed
she was ashamed of herself. I
made up my mind, come what
might, I would not rebuke her. I
would be kindness itself, and, if
Larry returned, I determined to meet
him generously, without rancor, and
hold out the hand of friendship.

Eileen was not at home when I
arrived. Agatha Garner was look-
ing after Mahoney and gave me a
cold greeting before ushering me
into the sick room. Perhaps, I
thought, it was just as well I was
seeing Mahoney first. He at least
was on my side.

He looked much better than when
I last saw him, and the idea that he
might have wilfully exaggerated his
ailments in order to hook a good
husband for his daughter flitted un-
pleasantly through my mind. He
was in quite a happy mood.

"I'm glad you've come, Ford," he
said. "Sorry, of course, about you
and Eileen, but, you know-love's
young dream."

"I am quite ready to overlook
everything, Mr. Mahoney," I said,
rather at a loss to understand his
words. "That is, if Eileen has come

to her senses."

HE looked at me 1

shrewdly, and pursed his lips.

"Um," he said, putting the tips of
his skinny fingers together. "I'm
afraid it is not as easy as all that.
You see, Larry turning up has in-
vested him with an air of romane?,
and well,, you know. Mr. Ford, what
young girls are. Not much romanee
about penny stamps and postcards,
eh? I'm afraid you must take your
gruel, old man."

"Are you trying to tell me," I 1
asked, beginning to fume inwardly,
"that Eileen is really going to marry

Ward?"

" "Fraid so. Ford," ne said. " Yrald |
so, my boy. Hot-blooded youth, j
you know. Parents haven't much
say these days."

"Do you mean you'll permit your
daughter to wed this-this pauperr'

"Oh. come now, Ford," he said, i
"Larry's a nice boy. We all have to
make a beginning. He'll do all
right."

I couldn't understand his attitude.
He had whined to me about death-
beds and the fear of leaving his
daughter penniless, and now, ap-
parently, he was content to die and
leave her to the mercy of a man
with neither a shilling In his pocket
nor a prospect in the world. I
picked up my hat and bade hun a
curt good evening. He held out a
thin hand, but I ignored it, and,
without bothering the Garner
woman, let myself out and walked
away in a towering rage.

My cup of bitterness was not yet
full, however, for I met Garnet Price
on the verandah of the hotel. He
stopped me with a show of friendli-

ness.

"Ah, there you are. Ford," he
cried. "I wanted to see you. Helen
has told me about you buying the
shares back. I'm glad you've dcm«
the decent thing."

I resented his implication and
was in no mood to talk.

"After Hansen's confession lt Just
seemed the right thing to do," I

said.

Pleose rum to poge 15

Old Sinners Viever Die j

Continued from page 12 j ;

JRICE regarded

me curiously. "Of course, of
course," he said. "Still it pleased
Helen, and me too, if that means
anything to you." He smacked his
les lightly with his riding-whip and
looked down, and for a moment I
thought he was actually confused.

He said: "Thougnt I'd tell you

Helen and I are to to be mar-
ried." He waited, evidently expect-
ing me to blurt out something con-
gratulatory.

When I didn't he looked up and
said almost belligerently: "I've got
ample means, thank heaven, to keep
her in comfort, so the money doesn't
really mean much to her. She's
decided not to keep any of
Speek's money. She's making it all
over to the blind asylum, I think.
All except the money you paid her
back for the shares. She's giving
that to Eileen Mahoney for a wed-
ding present. That'll give Eileen
and Larry a good start."

For a second I reeled, but I man-
aged to say contemptuously: "So
Ward is going to live on a woman?"

. Oh, no," he said quite genially.
'As a matter of fact, after the
honeymoon he's going to look after
a place of mine. When he's mar-
ried to a fine girl like Eileen he'll
settle down all right. There's good
stuff in that boy. Besides, you
wouldn't know, of course, but he's
going to. do a little tour with Bol-
dini- playing his mouth-organ with
the show and making those phono-
graph record things.

'The old scoundrel says there's
quite a pot of money in it. That's
why he kept the lad under his
wing after he'd fished him out of
the river. Well," he placed his
abominable hand on my shoulder.
"Thought you'd like to know. So
long, old man."

Even then I never suspected the
black heart of the man.

When the mail came in next day
there was a letter for me. When
I opened it I felt as I had done
on that day when I received news
of my ruin, for this communication
from the company in liquidation
dated the day before was making
it plain beyond the shadow of a
doubt that there was not one chance
ta a hundred million of the com-
pany ever re-establishing. The sec-
retary was still at large and likely
to be.

All at once I knew Just as if he'd
told me, that Price had wangled
that par in the "Banner," astutely
putting it under my article to make
sure i'd see it. Like a fool I'd
fallen for it.

I made a desperate effort to get
hiy own back. I ran out, slamming
the office door aft?r me, pushing
Haggart, who was about to come in,

out of my path. I was breathless 1 ]

when I got to the bank. I asked '
Teecher whether my cheque had
been presented.

"Oh, hours ago," he said lightly. \
"As soon as we opened, in fact. Is
anything wrong?"

"Wrong?" I said, and noted he
was staring at me curiously. "No
why, what should be wrong?"

I got back to the office somehow
and remember serving stamps to
someone, quite mechanically. Hag
gart's voice floated to me from
across the street. "Good day, Mr.
Price. Great weather."

And Garnet Price's answering
bellow: "A great day, Haggart. It's
good to be alive."

Something surged up inside me,

and with all my force I kicked the j
leg of the office table. Though I i
did not feel it then I found later í ' t
had broken a toe. Wringer Rosie
was peering through the letter win-
dow. Something in my face must
have frightened her, for she said:
"Oh, goodness!" and fled.

I slammed the window, as if by so L_

doing I could shut this accursed
town forever from my sight.

I never saw Eileen or Larry
again. In a little while I left the
place. I said good-bye to Mrs.
Marven, but to none other.

As I sat in the mail-buggy out-
side the post-office waiting for it to
start on its journey to Baloola the
two Misses Garner passed, Wellday's
brat walking between them. The
women ignored me, but, as the horses
moved off, the youngster turned and
stared at me rudely. Then she put
her thumb to her nose and extended
her fingers.

It was my farewell to the town.

Fifty years ago! And yet I re-
member it as yesterday. Old
Gallagher flicking his grey horses
with his whip; Sam Cotter, an apron
about his waist, coming to the door
of his grocery store to see who was
getting out in the mail-buggy; Hag-
gart in the doorway of his draper's
shop; smoke rising from the chim-
ney of Mahoney's cottage . . .

This morning the nurse was gos-
siping and giggling outside my door
and I rang the bell sharply. I And
laughter near a sick room intoler-
able, and I shall have to complain
again, though I suppose, as usual,
nothing will be done.

The nurse answered promptly
enough, but I let her see that I was
annoyed. However, she was quite
unperturbed, and I have to confess
I find a certain calm efficiency in
her movements difficult to reconcile
with her shaped eyebrows and scar-
let lips. It came back to me that
her name was Eileen, though I
always call her Jane.

This is Eileen, I thought when she

Old Sinners Viever Die

Continued from poge 15

J CHANGED the subject. I

said maliciously: "And Marven? I
suppose Boldini made you iorget all
about your first husband?"

She was not in the least offended.
She shut her eyes and shook her
head very slowly and smiled.

"Dear old fat Jim," she said
softly. "I often lie in bed and won
der how he's getting on with that
old rogue, Charlie. I think of them
sitting together on the bottom step
of the golden stairs waiting to carry
me up. I wonder however they've
fixed things! Jim was always such
a simple soul, Boldini's sure to put

one over him."

She actually giggled.

"It's really dreadful," she went on,
"to think of ail the people that man
fooled. Do you remèmber the
night we all sat in the dark and got
ourselves all worked up when a
light floated about our heads and
the thing moanei like a lost soul?"

I remembered it all too vividly.

"That old rogue," she said, "did
that with a guitar with a phos-
phorescent face tied to the end of
a lariat. He stood in the dark and
spun the lariat over our heads and
that made the guitar whine. He

was wonderful with the lariat.

"Larry Ward had told him all
about sitting in the tree with the
Hood all about him playing his
mouth-organ, so he easily faked that
bit. That nice young girl he used
to do tricks with played 'Eileen
Alannah' in the dark and sent the
message to Eileen Mahoney. Do
you remember her? She was such
an understanding little thing, I al-
ways thought."

I said nothing. She regarded me
quizzically and said: "I'll bet, Mr.
Ford, you've spent a lifetime won-
dering what really happened to that

blind man."

"Speek?"

"Who else? I thought you'd like
to know before you died."

It wasn't a nice way of putting lt.
After all, many men have lived to a

hundred.

"Of course," she said, "I'm a very
old woman with a very wonky inside,
so it doesn't matter who knows now."

"I'm sorry to hear you're so sick,"

I said.

"Oh," she replied lightly, "you
only die once, so you might as well
make the best of lt. Jim used to
say, 'Really, Marvie, lt's only like
going away to some place where
there are no mails, like you might be
having a holiday in some nice resort
with grand scenery and good cook-
ing, where you come on lots of old
cobbers-and presently your wife
comes to join you."

All right, I supposed, if one had

a wife-and cobbers.

Mrs. Marven went on: "You re-
member that Helen Speek ran to me
when her husband died. She'd
found him dead in his chair, but he
wasn't shot. She was terrified.
Poor girl, she thought she'd done
it. That silly man, Haggart-a
draper, wasn't he?-imagined he
was in love with her, and had sent
her some chocolates. Speek had
been in a wicked mood for a week.
He was suspicious of everyone,
jealous of every move she made.

"He was bullying her and terrify-
ing her, and, of course, she was in
love with Garnet Price. Speek
couldn't watch her, Mr. Ford, but
he listened to her every movement.
He was uncanny that way.

"On the day he died he taunted
her. He said he was going to alter
his will. She thought he was going
to cut her out of it, but she wasn't
worrying about that. She was
worrying how she could get to see
Garnet.. She desperately wanted
to see him that night, for she was
terribly in love. When you're in
love you do the silliest things, don't
you?" She paused to wipe her eyes
with a silly little lace handkerchief

"Well, Helen took a sleeping pow-
der Dr. Hansen had given her, and
she cut some of Haggart's chocolates
in halves and mixed Ute cream in-
side with the powder, and closed
the chocolates up again. She put
the chocolates where her husband
would find them. He was a real
glutton for sweets. He found them
all right. Poor Helen! She thought
lie would Just sleep heavily till

Printed and published by Consolidated Press
Limited, 1*8-174 Castlereagh Street. Sydney.

morning, and she would be able to
slip out and see Garnet.

"When she found him dead she
thought she had given him an over-
dose and killed him. Price thought
so, too. Hed known what she in-
tended about the sleeping draught,
but he was a bit afraid of it. He
tried to persuade her against it, but,
naturally, he stuck to her when
things went wrong. He was very
worried about the exhumation.
That's why he stole Speek's body."

"He stole Speek's body?"

"Yes," she continued in a matter
of-fact way. "Didn't you guess? He
took it away one night."

"Where?"

"Oh, somewhere. He told me
he'd put it in quite a pleasant place,
much nicer than that dreadful
cemetery. I'm sure even Speek
would have thought it a nice change.
And they never found it. There

were so many places round that
town where you could hide a body
in those days, weren't there?"

"I don't know," I told her. "It
has not been my habit to interfere
with the dead"

"Price must have found it awfully
exciting," she said, quite unper-
turbed. "After Helen found her
husband dead she came straight to
me. She didn't go to Dr. Hansen's.
She didn't even go to the police-
man's. She'd lost her head. She
told me everything, and I put her to
bed in my room."

"I remember," I said. "I heard
her crying."

Mrs. Marven went on: "I went to
her home and looked at Speek as he
lay in his armchair. He was not
pretty, Mr. Ford. I could hardly
bear to look at him. His chair was
alongside a little table and a drawer
was partly open.

"I pulled it right out, and there
were some papers, and on top of
them his will, and pinned loosely
to the will a piece of paper with
some scribbling. And this is what
the scribble said. I remember lt
because it has always seemed to me
a terrible thing that a man should
wish to carry hate beyond the
grave. It said:

" Memo for Mr. Ford: Fix up
codicil to will so that all still goe.i
to my wife, to be disposed of
according to her own ideas pro-
vided she enters a religious order
within one month, and spends the
rest of her life praying for me.'
"That was a terrible codicil,,not
only for what lt contemplated, but
because of the hate that prompted
it. I thought: 'My goodness, if they
find out he was going to do this
thing, they'll think Helen poisoned
him before he had time to alter his
will.' It would have been stupid,
of course, because Helen would have
married Garnet, and he had pote of

money.

"I thought how bad things were
going to be for Helen without any-
thing being known about the codicil,
and I did a very wicked thing. I

hld the piece of scribble in my shoe,
and carried it home. But before I
went I put the will back in the
drawer, and, as I did so, I saw
Speek's revolver. I . nearly
fainted. I'm terrified of guns.

"But I saw a chance to help
Helen, and I just made myself pick
the gun up. I hoped it would be
loaded. I pushed the muzzle against
Speek's mouth till I felt it hard
against hts teeth, and I pulled the
trigger.

"I was terrified someone would
come, but no one did. Then I forced
the gun into his hand. I pressed his
fingers round the trigger thing, and
I held the arm up with the gun
against his mouth just as it had been
when I fired the shot, and I let his
hand drop. When it did, I was glad
to see it still held the gun."

She fumbled a moment under the
rug which covered her legs, and
pulled out some woollen thing and
began knitting.

"I often sit and think," she said,
"what a blessing it was that it all
happened before that French police-
man invented fingerprints." The
twinkle came back into her eyes.
"Just fancy," she said. "I might
have been in the waxworks I"

She dwelt on that for a moment,
knitting silently, then went on:

"What was I saying? Oh, yes. I
«rent back to the hotel and told
Helen what I had done, and I told
her exactly what to tell Burke when
he came to ask questions. Then I
slipped across to the constable's
place and pinned a message on his
door. I was worried afterwards that
he might recognise my writing; but
he never did, poor man, though he
did rise to be a sergeant. Many a
little drink I had with him and
Rosie after he married the best
housemaid I ever had."

"And the draft of the codicil," I
said impatiently. "What did you do

with that?"

"I burned the nasty thing," she
said, smiling at me.

Mrs. Marven-I cannot bother
with her new name-visits me every
day. I find I can put up with her.
And no one else ever comes 1 Con-
sidering what is before her, how-
ever, I wonder that she can still find
time for frivolity. Yesterday she
actually said to the nurse: "What
sort of lip-stick do you use, dearie?"

It seems the stuff is called "Come
hither."

"I'd love to try it," Mrs. Marven
said. I could scarcely credit I had
heard aright, but in a flash Jane
was smearing the paint on her lips
She looked at herself in a tiny mirror
set in a little case the nurse lent
her.

Jane said: "Why, it's wonderful.
You don't look a day over forty."

The old lady gave her a playful
push.

"You little flatterer," she said.
"I'm forty-five." She turned to me,
and there was mischief in her eye.
"I think it improves me, don't you.
Mr. Ford?" she asked, and was hand-
ing the little case back to the girl
when she paused, reading the in-
itials engraved upon lt. "E.W.," she
read, aloud. "What does that stand
for, dear?"

"Eileen Ward," the nurse told me.
"It's a present from the boy-friend."

Mrs. Marven did not speak at once
but looked across at me where I lay
propped up on my pillows.

"Why, what's the matter?" Jane

asked.

Mrs. Marven began to laugh softly
"Nothing, my dear," she said. "Only
it would be awfully funny if it were
true. Were you named after your
mother, dear?"

The nurse shook her head. "After
gran'," she said. "She was a dear
old thing. Dad's name was Larry
after his dad, so there just naturally
had to be an Eileen In the family.'

I have at last decided what to do
about my will. I shall leave the
money to this nurse Eileen, whom 1
insist upon calling Jane. She might
as well have it as anyone, and
charities would only fritter lt away
I shall tell her what I am doing, and
she should be grateful. I should get
better attention. In any case, there
ls only a thousand pounds, and I
shall probably live for many years.

If she doesn't behave herself I
can easily alter it.

(Copyright)

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