"I have lately been extravagant," continued Reginald: "still I have a handsome fortune remaining. As I am not yet condemned," he added bitterly, "I can leave it to whom I choose. Do you wish to be my heiress?"
"Ah! Reginald—this proof of your affection——"
"No superfluous words, Cecilia," interrupted the rector impatiently. "If you wish to possess my wealth you must render me a service—an important service, to merit it."
"Any thing in the world that I can do to benefit you shall be performed most faithfully," said Lady Cecilia.
"And you will not shrink from the service which I demand? The condition is no light one."
"Name it. Whatever it be, I will accept it—provided that it do not involve my safety," returned Cecilia.
"Selfishness!" exclaimed the rector contemptuously. "Listen attentively. To-morrow my solicitor will attend upon me here. To him I shall make over all my property—in trust for the person to whom I choose to bequeath it. He is an honourable man, and will faithfully perform my wishes. I have not a relation nor a friend in the world who has any particular claim upon me. I can constitute you my heiress: at my death," he added slowly, "all I possess may revert to you,—the world remaining in ignorance of the manner in which I have disposed of my wealth. But if I thus enrich you, I demand from your hands the means of escaping an infamy otherwise inevitable."
"I do not understand you," said Cecilia, somewhat alarmed.
The rector leant forward, fixed a penetrating glance upon his mistress, and said in a hollow and subdued tone, "I require poison—a deadly poison!"
"Poison!" echoed Cecilia, with a shudder.