Mr. Wiltshire hastily inserted the words "fifty thousand pounds" in the codicil. He then took a pen, and called two of the nurses into the room.
"You must witness this," he said. "Please support the patient with pillows. Now, my dear Mrs. Aylmer, just put your name there."
The pen was put into the trembling hand.
"I am giving my money back to—but what does this mean?" Mrs. Aylmer pushed the paper away.
"Sign, sign," said the lawyer; "it is according to your instructions; it is all right. Sign it."
"Poor lady! It is a shame to worry her on the very confines of the grave," said one of the nurses angrily.
"Just write here; you know you have the strength. Here is the pen."
The lawyer put the pen into Mrs. Aylmer's hand. She held it limply for a minute and began to sign. The first letter of her Christian name appeared in a jagged form, the next letter was about to begin when the hand fell and the pen was no longer grasped in the feeble fingers.
"I am about to meet my Maker," she said, with a great sob; "send for the clergyman. Take that away."
"I shall not allow the lady to be worried any longer," said one of the nurses, with flashing eyes.