CHAPTER XVI.
Mr.Stevens makes a Discovery.
"Well, Jule, old Aunt Tabitha is gone at last, and I am not at all sorry for it, I assure you; she's been a complete tax upon me for the last eight years.

I suppose you won't lament much, nor yet go into mourning for her," continued Mr.Stevens, looking at her jocularly.
"I'm not sorry, that I admit," rejoined Mrs.Stevens; "the poor old soul is better off, no doubt; but then there's no necessity to speak of the matter in such an off-hand manner." "Now, Jule, I beg you won't attempt to put on the sanctified; that's too much from you, who have been wishing her dead almost every day for the last eight years.

Why, don't you remember you wished her gone when she had a little money to leave; and when she lost that, you wished her off our hands because she had none.

Don't pretend to be in the least depressed; that won't do with me." "Well, never mind that," said Mrs.Stevens, a little confused; "what has become of her things--her clothing, and furniture ?" "I've ordered the furniture to be sold; and all there is of it will not realize sufficient to pay her funeral expenses.

Brixton wrote me that she has left a bundle of letters directed to me, and I desired him to send them on." "I wonder what they can be," said Mrs.Stevens.
"Some trash, I suppose; an early love correspondence, of but little value to any one but herself.