“Yes. It is not likely that my uncle will be able to make a new will, and the present one I shall be very well contented with.”
“Confusion!” thought the lawyer. “I wish I could only see the old gentleman, and whisper a few words in his ear.”
If Lewis had not been too much absorbed in calculating his own chance, he might have noticed that Mr. Sharp’s wonted affability had deserted him, and that he, too, seemed preoccupied.
CHAPTER XXX.
PALLIDA MORS.
After his interview with the lawyer, Lewis took his way home; his heart alternately cheered with hope, or disturbed by apprehension. On the whole, however, hope predominated. It was based on the knowledge that neither his uncle nor his cousin were men of business, and at this moment both would have too many other things to think of to recur to that which he dreaded.
As he opened the outer door, he met a servant in the hall.
“How is my uncle, now, Jane?” he asked.
“I don’t know, sir; I haven’t been up stairs since you went away.”
“Is my—is the gentleman that came in a little while ago still here?” he inquired, anxiously.
“Yes, sir, I think so; I haven’t seen him go out.”