When Mrs. Coonie heard in the reading of the will that her daughter was left a legacy of £500 she clucked her tongue in astonishment. The next item of £750 made her start. The £1000 one caused her face to glow like fire, and her eye to sparkle like a diamond.
"You are a rich woman, Annie," she said, nudging the girl; "but where in thunder did he get the money?"
"I don't believe a word he says," Annie replied.
"Do you think," said her mother indignantly, "that a man standing at Death's door is going to stagger in with a pack of lies on his back?"
When McKeel read about the six hundred and forty acres of land, Mrs. Coonie jumped up, and looked over his shoulder to make quite sure the words were written down. When he came to the £15,000 she rushed out, and danced a jig on the verandah to relieve her feelings. When she was sufficiently calm she went back to the room. The will was now signed.
"There is only one thing to be done," said Lanky very feebly and with great difficulty. "I want Annie to say she loves me."
"Oh no, no!" she said, bursting into a fit of crying.
"Say it to please him!" said her mother. "Don't you see he's dying?"