“My time for this world’s benefits is likely to be short,” said the invalid.
“Not so, my dear! You are looking ten per cent better than when I saw you last.”
“My glass tells me you do not speak truly in that. Come, deal frankly with me. What do you want?”
“As I was saying, my love,” resumed Charlton, “my business is improving; but I need a somewhat more extended credit, and you can help me to it.”
“I thought there was something wanted,” returned the invalid, with a scornful smile; “but you overrate my ability. How can I help your credit? The annuity allowed by Mr. Berwick ends with my life. I have no property, real or personal,—except my canary-bird, and what few clothes you can find in yonder wardrobe.”
“But, my dear,” urged Charlton, “many persons imagine that you have property; and if I could only show them an authenticated instrument under which you bequeath, in the event of your death, all your estate, real and personal, to your husband, it would aid me materially in raising money.”
“That, sir, would be raising money under false pretences. I shall lend myself to no such attempt. Why not tell the money-lenders the truth? Why not tell them your wife has nothing except what she receives from the charity of her step-son?”
Enraged at seeing how completely his victim had thrown off his influence, and at the same time indulging a vague hope that he might recover it, Charlton’s lips began to work as if he were hesitating whether to try his old game of browbeating or to adopt a conciliatory course. A suspicion that the lady was disenchanted, and no longer subject to any spell he could throw upon her, led him to fall back on the more prudent policy; and he replied: “I have concealed nothing from the parties with whom I am negotiating. I have told them the precise situation of our affairs; but they have urged this contingency: your wife, it is true, is dependent, but her rich relatives may die and leave her a bequest. We will give you the money you want, if you will satisfy us that you are her heir.”
“You fatigue me,” said the invalid. “You wish me to make a will in your favor. You have the instruments all drawn up and ready for my signature in your pocket; and on the opposite side of the street you have three men in waiting who may serve as witnesses.”
“But who told you this?” exclaimed Charlton, confounded.