“Of course, it is a very large amount,” he went on, “but if he wished it—”
“You are right, Donald.” Mrs. Pope favored him with a smile which seemed almost genial, compared with those she usually bestowed upon him. “Edith, my dear, it is your duty to respect the wishes of the dead. Don’t you think so, Mr. Brennan?”
“The will allows me no latitude, madam. Whatever your daughter’s feelings in the matter may be, it is my duty as executor to turn over to her Mr. West’s estate in its entirety. What disposition she may see fit to make of it afterward is, of course, no affair of mine.” He turned and picked up his hat and coat from the chair where Donald had placed them. “It will be desirable, Mrs. Rogers, for you to come to my office at your early convenience for a business consultation. There are some papers I shall want you to sign. If possible, I should be glad to have you come to-morrow—say at twelve o’clock.”
“I—I tell you I don’t want this money,” faltered Edith. “I—I have no right to it—”
“Mr. Brennan has just explained to you, Edith, that the money is yours by law. He is obliged to turn it over to you. I can understand, of course, that it is a great surprise to you, but surely, if it was his wish, there is no reason for you to feel so strongly about it.” She fell to sobbing softly and, clutching at his arm, put her head upon it. “Donald—oh, Donald!” she moaned.
“I think, Mr. Brennan,” said Donald, turning to the lawyer, “that you can depend upon Mrs. Rogers coming in to see you at twelve to-morrow. Good-night.”
“Good-night,” said the lawyer, as he bowed and left the room.
“Think of what this money will mean, Edith,” exclaimed her mother, her face aglow with anticipation, “to you—to Bobbie—to all of us.” She looked at Alice with a joyful smile. “I guess we can have that cottage after all.”
“Don’t! Don’t!” cried Edith. “My God, you don’t realize what you are saying.”
She swayed suddenly forward, overcome by the terrible strain of the past half-hour, and fell heavily to the floor.