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'I married Robert Sigglesfield in the name of William Alderton, and he sitting trembling there, like a shrimp half boiled! He got ready the kind of will we wanted instead of the one the old man meant, and gave it to the old man to sign, and he signed it right enough. 'And what about that arsenic, says I, 'that arsenic I found in your corner cupboard? 'Oh, it was you took it, was it?
'That's the woman that I married on the 7th; and that's the man I married her to! said he, pointing to Sigglesfield, who seemed to turn twice as small, and his ferret eyes no better than button-hole slits. 'That! said our parson; 'why, that's Mr. Sigglesfield, the solicitor from Lewes. 'Then the lady opposite is Mrs. Sigglesfield, that's all, said the parson from London.
'You can come and hear the will read, she says, 'for all your impudence, you hussy! And I don't know why I went in after her impudence, but I did. Mr. Sigglesfield was there, and some of the relations, who had come a long way to hear if they was to pull anything out of the fire; and Master Harry was there, looking very pale through all his sun-brownness.
But we had the law of that Sigglesfield, and it was fourteen years' penal. And the will was never found I expect Mrs. Blake had burnt it, so the farm came to John, and what else there was to Harry, according to the terms of the will the old man had made when his wife was alive, afore John had joined the force.
I'll teach you! says she, and back she goes into the parlour. But I took no notice of what she said, for Master Harry, he hired me, and I would take no notice from any one but him. Mr. Sigglesfield was a-coming pretty often just then, and Harry he come to me one day, and he says
She had got on her widow's mourning, very smart and complete, with black crape, and her white cap; and she'd got the front of her dress folded back very neat on her lap, and was toasting her legs, in her black-and-red checked petticoat, and her feet in cashmere house-boots, very warm and cosy, on the brass fender; and she had got port wine and sherry wine in the two decanters that was never out of the glass-fronted chiffonier when master was alive; and there was something else in a black bottle; and opposite her, in the best arm-chair that old master had sat in to the last, was that lawyer, Sigglesfield from Lewes.
There was no getting over them. Married at St. Mary Woolnoth, in London, by special licence. 'O you wicked old Jezebel! says Master Harry, shaking his fist at her; 'here's a fine end for a young man's hopes! Is it true? says he, turning to the lawyer. And Mr. Sigglesfield shakes his head and says 'I am afraid so, my poor fellow. 'Jezebel, indeed! cries Mrs. Blake.
And says he, 'I suppose the will's got to be read, but my father, he told me what I was to expect. It's all to me, and one hundred to Mrs. Blake, and five pounds apiece to the servants. And Mr. Sigglesfield looks at him out of his ferret eyes, and says very quietly, 'I think the will had better be read, Mr. Alderton. 'So I think, says Mrs.
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