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'Well, said Liversage, and both brothers noticed that he was rather ill at ease, instead of being humorous and lightly caustic as usual, 'the will's turned up. 'The devil it has! John exclaimed. 'When? 'This afternoon. And then, as there was a pause, Liversage added: 'Yes, my sons, the will's turned up. 'But where, you cuckoo, sitting there like that? asked Robert. 'Where?
John, haggard and undone, was awaiting him in the drawing-room. 'Pow, said he, 'I've had a fearful row with Bob, and I can't possibly sleep in our house tonight. Don't talk to me. But let me have one of the beds in your spare room, will you? There's a good chap. 'Why, of course, Johnnie, said Liversage. 'Of course. 'And I'll go right to bed now, said John.
Robert took the slate and wrote on it: 'What is Liversage coming about? And he pushed the slate across the table to John. Whereupon John wrote on the slate: 'Don't know. He telephoned me he wanted to see us tonight. And he pushed back the slate to Robert.
Liversage, who, being a bachelor like the Hessians, had many unoccupied evenings, came to see the brothers regularly every Saturday night, and one or other of them dropped in upon him most Wednesdays; but this particular night was a Thursday. 'How do? John greeted him succinctly between two puffs of a pipe. 'How do? replied Liversage.
Each was afraid to speak, afraid even to meet the eyes of the other two. An unmajestic silence followed. 'Well, I'll be off, I think, Liversage remarked at length with difficulty. He rose. 'I say, Robert stopped him. 'Better not say anything about this to Miss to Annie, eh? And he departed. The brothers sat in flustered meditation over the past and the future.
And I commit my soul to God, hoping for a blessed resurrection. 20th January, 1896. Signed Mary Ann Bott, widow." As I told you, the witnessing is in order, Liversage finished. 'Give it here, said John shortly, and scanned the sheet of paper. And Robert actually walked round the table and looked over his brother's shoulder ample proof that he was terrifically moved.
An hour later, after Powell Liversage had seen his affianced to her abode and returned home, and after his mother had gone to bed, there was a knock at the front door, and Liversage opened to Robert Hessian. 'Look here, Pow, said Robert, whose condition was deplorable, 'I want to sleep here tonight. Do you mind?
Spence seemed to avoid me, the kinder and more patronizing was her manner; and she so far evinced her friendship presently as to show me the manuscript of a novel which she had written, entitled "Moderation," and which was dedicated "To him to whom I owe all that in me is of worth, Charles Liversage Spence."
'And do you mean to tell me that a will like that is good in law? exclaimed John. 'Of course it's good in law! Liversage replied. 'Legal phraseology is a useful thing, and it often saves trouble in the end; but it ain't indispensable, you know. 'Humph! was Robert's comment as he resumed his seat and relighted his pipe. All three men were nervous.
Not for the fortune itself! To do so would scarcely have been Bursleyish. It would certainly not have been Hessianlike. So Liversage was obliged at length to say 'I reckon I'd better read you the will, eh? The brothers nodded. 'Mind you, said Liversage, 'it's not my will. I've had nothing to do with it; so kindly keep your hair on. As a matter of fact, she must have drawn it up herself.
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