"We all acted like fools," she announced, "in needlessly offending him by protesting against his second marriage. I don't mean you--I mean his son, his nephew, and myself. If his second marriage made him happy, what business had we with the disparity of years between husband and wife? I can tell you this, Sextus was the first of us to regret what he had done. But for his stupid fear of being suspected of an interested motive, Sir Gervase might have known there was that much good in his sister's son."She snatched up a copy of the will, which I had not even noticed thus far.
"See what the kind old man says of you," she went on, pointing to the words. I could not see them; she was obliged to read them for me. "I leave my money to the one person living who has been more than worthy of the little I have done for her, and whose ****** unselfish nature I know that I can trust."I pressed Mrs. Fosdyke's hand; I was not able to speak. She took up the legal paper next.
"Do justice to yourself, and be above contemptible scruples," she said. "Sextus is fond enough of you to be almost worthy of the sacrifice that you are ******. Sign--and I will sign next as the witness."I hesitated.
"What will he think of me?" I said.
