"Of course, I can—"
"Read the paper now, and give me your opinion."
Torrey put on his glasses, opened the paper. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "I remember this. It's in my partner's handwriting. Hargrave had Watson draw it up about five years ago. We were very careful in preparing it. It is legal."
"Very well," continued Hiram. "Now I'll give you the points of my will."
Torrey took notebook and pencil from his pocket.
"First," began Hiram, as if he were reciting something he had learned by heart, "to my wife, Ellen, this house and everything in it, and the grounds and all the horses and carriages and that kind of thing."
"Yes," said Torrey, looking up from his note making.
"Second, to my wife an income of seven thousand a year for life—that is what it cost her and me to live last year, and the children—except the extras. Seven thousand for life—but only for life."
"Yes," said Torrey, his glance at Hiram now uneasy and expectant.
"Third, to my daughter, Adelaide, two thousand a year for her life—to be divided among her daughters equally, if she have any; if not, to revert to my estate at her death."