“It’s uncertain, Polly. Perhaps only a few days this time, perhaps a week. I’ll be back and forth, you know, and you’re bound to find enough to interest you. Keep me advised of any news from America. You can always reach me by mail or wire, or telephone if need be. And, here’s another matter, Pauline. You know, this work I’m up against is more or less dangerous.”
“Dangerous, how?”
“Well, there’s blasting and danger of cave-ins and such matters,—but don’t feel alarmed, I’ll probably come through all right. Only, I want to make my will, so if anything should happen, you’ll be my heir without any fuss about it.”
“Oh, don’t talk about such things, Carr. You frighten me.”
“Nonsense, don’t take it like that. Now, see here. You know my way. Touch and go is my motto. So, I’ve asked a lawyer chap to come here to-night and fix up things. Suppose you make your will, too. Then it will seem more like a business matter, and not as if either of us expects to die soon. Who’s your heir to be, Polly?”
“Why, I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it.”
“But you ought to. You see, now you’re some heiress, and it isn’t right not to have a will made,—on general principles. To be sure, you may marry,——”
“Oh, I don’t think I ever will, Carr!”
“Nonsense, Pollypops, of course you will. But you must take your time and select a good chappie. Now, how does this strike you? Jeffries, my lawyer, is coming here, right away. Suppose we each make a will, leaving all our worldly goods to each other. Then, later, when you decide on your life mate, you can change and rearrange as you like.”
“But I haven’t any fortune yet. Aunt Lucy’s estate isn’t all settled, is it?”