“I drew it,” said Overton gently.
“You should not have done so, sir,” replied Emmons; “knowing the facts as you do, you ought to have pointed out to the old man where his obligations lay.”
“It is the profession of a clergyman, not of a lawyer, to point out his client’s duty, Mr. Emmons.”
Emmons looked from one to the other, and then, remembering the sudden friendship that had sprung up between them, he asked, “And when was this will made?”
“Almost three years ago,” Overton answered, and there was silence until, seeing Emmons about to break out again, Nellie said mildly,
“Really, James, if I can bear it, I think you might.”
“The sacrifices you made—” Emmons began, but she stopped him.
“Blood is thicker than water. It would be a pretty poor sort of world if men did not love their own children better than other people’s.”
“Oh, if you are satisfied,” said Emmons bitterly; and then changed his sentence but not his tone. “All I can say is I am glad you all are pleased.”
“You have not given us much of a chance to say whether we were or not,” suggested Vickers mildly.