"
"And so," said Lindy, recovering herself, "you have come here to scold
me because Abner Stiles didn't tell the truth. I told you he was a
wonderful story teller."
"No, Miss Putnam," said Quincy, "I did not come here for any such
purpose. I made you a promise yesterday and I have come to keep it. I
know who is to inherit your mother's money. She did not intend to tell
me, but the name escaped her unintentionally."
"Did she ask you not to tell me?" asked Lindy.
"No," replied Quincy, "not in so many words."
"Then you must tell me," cried Lindy eagerly.
"Well, I don't know," said Quincy. "Your mother said you would give a
thousand dollars to know the name of the person. This fixes the
condition on which I shall divulge the name."
"And if I did give you a thousand dollars," inquired Lindy, "what would
you do with the money?"
"I should give it to your mother," said Quincy. "She fixed the price of
the secret, not I."
Lindy walked to the window and looked out. She wished to know the name.
She had her suspicions, but she could not bear to give up a thousand
dollars of her own money, for she knew that this, too, would go to the
unknown heiress.
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