"A dreary disposition of property for a man of your age," he said, "I hope to receive a new set of instructions before you are a year older.""What instructions?" I asked.
"To provide for your wife and children," he answered.
My wife and children! The idea seemed to be so absurd that Iburst out laughing. It never occurred to me that there could be any absurdity from my own point of view.
I was sitting alone, after my legal adviser had taken his leave, looking absently at the newly-engrossed will, when I heard a sharp knock at the house-door which I thought I recognized. In another minute Rothsay's bright face enlivened my dull room. He had returned from the Mediterranean that morning.
"Am I interrupting you?" he asked, pointing to the leaves of manuscript before me. "Are you writing a book?""I am ****** my will."
His manner changed; he looked at me seriously.
"Do you remember what I said, when we once talked of your will?"he asked. I set his doubts at rest immediately--but he was not quite satisfied yet. "Can't you put your will away?" he suggested. "I hate the sight of anything that reminds me of death.""Give me a minute to sign it," I said--and rang to summon the witnesses.
