How the Money was Left.
“A singularly quiet funeral, Mr Hampton,” said Doctor Lawrence as he rode back in the same carriage with the solicitor.
“The wish of the deceased, sir. He had a great dislike to wasting money.”
“Bit miserly, Mr Hampton.”
“No, sir, no. On the whole a generous man, but if he spent money, as he used to say to me. He liked to have something substantial in return.”
“Well, I must say for him, that he was always prompt in his payments.”
“Always,” said the lawyer.
“But with his wealth it seems strange that we have not got a host of needy relatives. We can talk about it, Hampton, not being relatives. Wish I was. A slice of the poor old boy’s cake would have been a nice help to a family man like me.”
“Humph, yes, I suppose so. Money’s nice. Very sudden at last, doctor.”
“Ye-es, and no,” said the doctor. “When a man gets to eighty-five you may say his life hangs by a cobweb. Any little excitement may bring it to an end.”