poor lass left me. 'Twas out o' consideration for me she wouldn't speak; and I ain't goin' to tell you, Twisden. No, I'm goin' to die, and it ain't worth while. But I want—I want———"
Here his face grew redder, and the veins in his forehead swelled; his voice also shook; and the old lawyer leaning forward, said—
"I think I understand. Yon want your niece to inherit all you possess, after your wife's death?"
"No! After my death!" he cried. "Don't ye make—a mistake—after my death. Take out the will, and put in a—what d'ye call it?—just to upset what you wrote iu before—about letting my wife—enjoy all the money—for her life. It ain't necessary. Her jointure's about one-third of the income—that's good enough—for a single woman; and—and it ain't enough—to tempt a blackguard."
"Do you not wish to leave anything at Mrs. Shaw's disposal?"
He hesitated a moment. "No—not worth while—only tempting blackguards. She has got this house for her life, and nearly three thousand a year. It's Shaw money. I don't want a penny of it to go—to blackguards; it shall come back to Elizabeth."
He said this, in one form or another, over and over again. Then Twisden brought out the will from his black bag, and the next quarter of an hour was employed in reading it carefully over to the dying man, and seeing that he fully understood its provisions. He appended the codicil which gave to Elizabeth the whole of her uncle's property, at his demise, subject to a life-interest
