may say, he may be prompted to do, things which—which———"
Her disconnected sentences, poured out in a flurried manner, were stopped short by the descent of Mr. Shaw's valet. He came rapidly down the stairs, to request that Mr. Twisden would not delay in going to his master, who had heard the brougham drive up. He brought a message, furthermore, to Mrs. Shaw, desiring that neither the doctor nor any one else should enter his room until Mr. Twisden had departed.
He lay, white and weak, propped up by pillows, his eyes riveted on the door by which the lawyer entered. The sick man motioned his valet to withdraw. Twisden approached and took his hand. A table, with pens, ink, and paper, were beside the bed, and an easy-chair, to which Shaw pointed.
"I've sent for you—in a hurry, Twisden," he breathed heavily between his phrases, which were broken, "because I've not long to be here, and—I want to alter things a bit. They're changed. Yes, all's changed, Twisden—from what it was—a while back. And yet I don't know—as they are changed—only———"
"Do not exhaust yourself unnecessarily by talking, my dear Shaw," cut in the old lawyer. "Tell me definitely and succinctly what you want. I am here to obey your instructions. I have already done so as regarded destroying your second will. The first will I have here in this bag."
"The second's destroyed? That's good, anyway." He gave a sigh of relief. "If I had listened to you, Twisden, I shouldn't ha' made it. Well, I know now why the
