"What?" said Alaric, beaming; "did the dear old gentleman leave a will?"
Even Ethel stopped playing with "Pet" and listened languidly to the conversation.
Mr. Hawkes, realising he had their complete interest, went on importantly: "As Mr. Kingsnorth's legal adviser up to the time of his untimely death I have come here to make you acquainted with some of its contents."
He spread a formidable-looking document wide-open on the table, adjusted his pince-nez and prepared to read. "Dear old Nat!" said Alaric reflectively. "Do you remember, mater, we met him at Victoria Station once when I was little more than a baby? Yet I can see him now as plainly as if it were yesterday. A portly, sandy-haired old buck, with three jolly chins."
"He was white toward the end, and very, very thin," said Mr. Hawkes softly.
"Was he?" from Alaric. "Fancy that. It just shows, mater, doesn't it?" He bent eagerly over the table as Hawkes traced some figures with a pencil on one of the pages of the will.
"How much did he leave?" And Alaric's voice rose to a pitch of well-defined interest.
"His estate is valued, approximately, at some two hundred thousand pounds," replied the lawyer.
Alaric gave a long, low whistle, and smiled a broad, comprehensive smile.
Ethel for the first time showed a gleam of genuine interest.