"What!"
George leapt out of his seat like a man shot, and had to hold the table to steady himself. His wife and aunt shrieked simultaneously.
"What's that you say!" roared George. "Me take the legacy? Me be a teetotaler, and take over the—the——"
He sat down in his seat at the earnest request of his aunt, who declared that he ought to be ashamed of himself to frighten his poor darling wife by roaring like a lion.
"I don't understand," said George, in a dazed fashion. "Me take the—Gray lose his legacy, and me take it?"
Mrs. Early having recovered and scolded her "naughty boy," Aunt Phœbe begged her nephew to be calm, and repeated her former statement. It was quite correct; if the legacies were lost while Miss Fairbrother remained unmarried, they were to go to charities, but in the event of Miss Fairbrother being married the legacies, together with the conditions, would revert to her husband. It was Mr. Fairbrother's express wish, because he said his daughter's husband might need reforming, and if he didn't there would be no harm done.
"Very kind of him," said George; "and what about the husband? I suppose he can't lose the legacies—he's got them for life?"
"No," said Aunt Phœbe; "if he loses them the money goes to charities."
George gave a sigh of relief. "I'm afraid I should lose them," he said. "However, it wouldn't much matter?"
It was Aunt Phœbe's turn to be surprised. "Wouldn't much matter, do you say?" she almost shrieked. "Do you mean to tell me that you don't know all the terrible conditions attached to these legacies?"