“Of course. Their owner could at once appropriate any sum you might leave to them, even though it were a million of dollars.”
“You have now heard all I have to say, Mr. Winslow.”
“Then, madam, you will please write under these memoranda with your own hand something to this effect, and sign your name, with date, place, et cetera: ‘This I declare to be my own spontaneous, unbiassed request to Mr. Winslow, to dispose of the property in his possession, in the manner hereinabove stated.’ The autograph will have no legal force, but it may serve to satisfy your husband.”
The lady wrote, and handed back the paper.
“Good!” said Winslow. “Before taking another meal, I will draw up and sign a will by which your requests can be made effectual.”
“Your hand, Mr. Winslow! My father trusted you as he did no other man, and I thank you for your loyalty to what you knew to be his wishes.”
“The task he put upon me has been a very simple one, madam. Good by. We shall soon meet again, I hope.”
“Yes. I shall be quite well of my heart-complaint then. Good by.”
Hardly had Winslow left the house than Ratcliff drove up and entered. He was in a jubilant mood. News had just been received of the Confederate victory at Bull Run. He knocked at his wife’s door. “Come in!” He entered. Josephine and Clara were present, trying to soothe the invalid. One was bathing her forehead with eau de Cologne; the other was kneeling, and rubbing her feet. She had been telling them what she had done. She had kissed first one and then the other, lavishing on them profuse tokens of affection. Her eyes gleamed with an unnatural brightness, and her cheeks were flushed with the glow of a great excitement.
As Ratcliff came in she rose, and, standing between Josephine and Clara, put an arm round the shoulder of each, and looked her husband steadily in the face. Her expression was that of one who cannot find words adequate to the utterance of some absorbing emotion. The look was compounded at once of defiance and of pity. Her lips moved, but no articulation followed. Then suddenly, with a gasped “Ah!” she convulsively bowed her body like a tree smitten by the tornado. The pain, if sharp, was but for a moment.