The Time of Roses Part 49

Pleased even with this a.s.sent, somewhat ungraciously given, the lawyer now sat down and wrote some sentences rapidly.

"The sum you will leave to her," he said: "ten, twenty, thirty, forty, shall we say _fifty_ thousand pounds, my dear Mrs. Aylmer?"

"Forty--fifty if you like--_anything_! Oh, I am choking--I shall die!"

cried Mrs. Aylmer.

Mr. Wiltshire hastily inserted the words "fifty thousand pounds" in the codicil. He then took a pen, and called two of the nurses into the room.

"You must witness this," he said. "Please support the patient with pillows. Now, my dear Mrs. Aylmer, just put your name there."

The pen was put into the trembling hand.

"I am giving my money back to--but what does this mean?" Mrs. Aylmer pushed the paper away.

"Sign, sign," said the lawyer; "it is according to your instructions; it is all right. Sign it."

"Poor lady! It is a shame to worry her on the very confines of the grave," said one of the nurses angrily.

"Just write here; you know you have the strength. Here is the pen."

The lawyer put the pen into Mrs. Aylmer's hand. She held it limply for a minute and began to sign. The first letter of her Christian name appeared in a jagged form, the next letter was about to begin when the hand fell and the pen was no longer grasped in the feeble fingers.

"I am about to meet my Maker," she said, with a great sob; "send for the clergyman. Take that away."

"I shall not allow the lady to be worried any longer," said one of the nurses, with flashing eyes.

Mr. Wiltshire was defeated; so was Bertha Keys. The clergyman came and sat for a long time with the sick woman. She listened to what he had to say and then put a question to him.

"I am stronger than I was earlier in the day. I can do what I could not do a few hours back. Oh, I know well that I shall never recover, but before I go hence I want to give back what was entrusted to me."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"I mean my money, my wealth; I wish to return it to G.o.d."

"Have you not made your will? It is always right that we should leave our affairs in perfect order."

"I wish to make a fresh will, and at once. My lawyer, Mr. Wiltshire, has come and gone. He wanted me to sign a codicil which would have been wicked. G.o.d did not wish it, so He took my strength away. I could not sign the codicil, but now I can sign a fresh will which may be made. If I dictate a fresh will to you, and I put my proper signature, and two nurses sign it, will it be legal?"

"Quite legal," replied the clergyman.

"I will tell you my wishes. Get paper."

The minister crossed the room, took a sheet of paper from a table which stood in the window, and prepared to write.

Mrs. Aylmer's eyes were bright, her voice no longer trembling, and she spoke quickly.

"I, Susan Aylmer, of Aylmer's Court, Shropshire, being quite in my right mind, leave, with the exception of a small legacy of fifty pounds a year to my sister-in-law, Mrs. Aylmer, of Dawlish, all the money I possess to two London hospitals to be chosen by my executor.--Have you put _all_ the money I possess?" she enquired.

"Yes; but is your will fair?" he said. "Have you no other relations to whom you ought to leave some of your wealth?"

"I give all that I possess back to G.o.d. He gave me my wealth, and He shall have it again," repeated Mrs. Aylmer; and she doubtless thought she was doing a n.o.ble thing.

This brief will was signed without any difficulty by the dying woman and attested by the two nurses. Two hours later, the rich woman left her wealth behind her and went to meet her G.o.d.

CHAPTER XLIII.

MRS. AYLMER'S WILL.

Nothing would induce Florence to go to Aylmer's Court and Mrs. Aylmer the less, in great distress of mind, was forced to remain with her in her flat that evening.

Florence gave her the very best that the flat contained, sleeping herself on the sofa in her sitting-room.

Mrs. Aylmer sat up late and talked and talked until she could talk no longer. At last Florence got her into bed, and then went to visit Edith in her room.

"You don't look well," said Edith; "your engagement has not improved you. What is the matter?"

"I don't exactly know what is the matter," said Florence. "I am worried about mother's visit. My aunt, Mrs. Aylmer, is dying. She is a very rich woman. Mother is under the impression that, if she and I went to Aylmer's Court, Mrs. Aylmer might leave me her property. I don't want it; I should hate to have it. I have learned in the last few months that money is not everything. I don't want to have Aunt Susan's money."

"Well," replied Edith, staring her full in the face, "that is the most sensible speech you have made for a long time. I have closely studied the question of economics, and have long ago come to the conclusion that the person of medium income is the only person who is truly happy. I am even inclined to believe that living from hand to mouth is the most enviable state of existence. You never know how the cards will turn up; but the excitement is intense. When I am a doctor, I shall watch people's faces with intense interest, wondering whether, when their next illness comes on, they will send for me; then there will be the counting up of my earnings, and putting my little money by, and living _just_ within my means. And then I shall have such wide interests besides money: the cure of my patients, their love and grat.i.tude to me afterwards. It is my opinion, Florence, that the more we live _outside_ money, and the smaller place money takes in the pleasures of our lives, the happier we are; for, after all, money can do so little, and I don't think any other people can be so miserable as the vastly rich ones."

"I agree with you," said Florence.

"It is more than Tom does," replied Edith, looking fixedly at her.

"After all, Florence, are you not in some ways too good for my brother?"

"In some ways too good for him?" repeated Florence. She turned very white. "You don't know me," she added.

"I don't believe I do, and, it occurs to me, the more I am with you the less I know you. Florence, is it true that you have a secret in your life?"

"It is quite true," said Florence, raising her big dark eyes and fixing them on the face of her future sister-in-law.

"And is it a secret that Tom knows nothing about?"

"A secret, Edith, as you say, that Tom knows nothing about."

"How very dreadful! And you are going to marry him holding that secret?"

"Yes; I shall not reveal it. If I did, he would not marry me."

"But what is it, my dear? Won't you even tell me?"

"No, Edith. Tom marries me for a certain purpose. He gets what he wants.

I do not feel that I am doing wrong in giving myself to him; but, wrong or right, the thing is arranged: why worry about it now?"

"You are a strange girl. I am sorry you are going to marry my brother. I do not believe you will be at all happy, but, as I have said already, I have expressed my opinion."