‘It would hold the Atlantic. Your gift is so entirely simple, that there could be no difficulty in wording the deed. You give your wife everything. I think you a fool, so did the advising counsel; but that makes no difference.’
‘Not a whit.’
John Treverton sat down at the office table and read the deed of settlement from the first word to the last. He gave to his dear wife, Laura Treverton, all the property, real and personal, of which he stood possessed, for her sole and separate use. There was a good deal of legal jargon, but the drift of the deed was clear enough.
‘I am ready,’ said John.
Mr. Sampson rang the bell for the servant, and shouted into the passage for his sister. Eliza came running in, and at sight of John Treverton’s pale face screamed, and made as if she would have fainted.
‘Gracious, Mr. Treverton!’ she gasped, ‘I thought there were oceans between us. What in mercy’s name has happened?’
‘Nothing alarming. I have only come to execute my marriage settlement, which I was not in a position to make till yesterday.’
‘How dreadful for poor Mrs. Treverton to be left alone in a foreign land!’
John Treverton did not notice this speech. He dipped his pen in the ink and signed the paper, while Miss Sampson and Sophia, the housemaid, looked on wonderingly.
‘Sophia, run and get a pair of sheets aired, and get the spare room ready,’ cried Eliza, when she had affixed her signature as witness. ‘Of course you are going to stop with us, Mr. Treverton?’