Jaspar seated himself, and lit a cigar, without acknowledging his host's
courtesy, while Maxwell applied himself to the task before him. The
first part of the will was speedily written; but those parts which
alluded to the testator's daughter, foreshadowing the opulence that
awaited her, he could not so easily pass over. They were so strongly
suggestive of the fortunate lot of him who should wed her, that he could
scarcely proceed with the work. An hour before, she had veiled _his_
prospects in darkness; now he was preparing a will which would, at no
distant day, place her in possession of a princely fortune. His mind was
so firmly fixed upon the attainment of this treasure that it refused to
bend itself to the task before him.

Jaspar had finished his cigar, and began to be a little impatient.
Thrice he rose from his chair, and looked over the lawyer's shoulder.

"This is an important paper," said Maxwell, noticing Jaspar's
impatience, "and must be executed with great care."

"So it is; but the colonel may die before you get it done," observed
Jaspar, coarsely, and with a crafty smile, which was not unnoticed by
the attorney.

"O, no! I hope not," replied Maxwell, exhibiting the prototype of
Jaspar's smile.

A smile! What is it? What volumes are conveyed in a single smile! It is
the magnetic telegraph by which sympathetic hearts convey their untold
and unmentionable purposes. To the anxious lover it is the bearer of the
first tidings of joy. Long before the heart dare resort to coarse,
material words, the smile carries the messages of affection. To the