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. I do not expect that they will prove of any
consequence whatever."
"Don't you think one or the other of us should go to the funeral?" asked
Mrs. Stevens. "Nonsense. No! I have no money to expend in that way--it is
as much as I can do to provide comfortably for the living, without spending
money to follow the dead," replied he; "and besides, I have a case coming
on in the Criminal Court next week that will absorb all my attention."
"What kind of a case is it?" she inquired.
"A murder case. Some Irishmen were engaged in a row, when one of the party
received a knock on his head that proved too much for him, and died in
consequence. My client was one of the contending parties; and has been
suspected, from some imprudent expressions of his, to have been the man who
struck the fatal blow.
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