Mrs. Mason went up stairs immediately.
The old lady was lying on the bed, looking fatigued.
"How do you do, Mrs. Mack?" said Mrs. Mason kindly.
"I feel tired, but I am strong—oh, yes, I am very strong. I think I shall live ten years," and the old woman peered anxiously into Mrs. Mason's face hoping for a confirmation of her opinion.
"I hope you will if you desire it. Edith tells me you have had a visit from the doctor."
"No, it was not the doctor; it was a lawyer. I have made my will."
Mrs. Mason looked surprised.
"Not that I have much to leave, but I don't want my nephew to get anything. If anything happens to me—some years hence—I would like you to call on my lawyer and tell him. He has an office at 132 Nassau Street. Mr. Page. You will remember?"
"Yes."
"He has my will. I didn't want to leave it here. It might be stolen, or mislaid, and then Jack Minton would inherit. You'll put down the address?"