They were all roused up in a moment by the interruption of some unusual sound, and suddenly Rose was heard speaking in tones which were sharp and urgent in confused passion. ‘I don’t want to hear any more,’ she said; ‘what is the use of it all? Oh, Mr. Loseby, please be quiet for one moment and let me speak! The first thing is to make a new will.
‘To make your will—there is plenty of time for that,’ said the old lawyer, astonished, pushing his spectacles as usual out of his way; while Mrs. Mountford said with a glance up from her worsted-work, ‘My pet! that is not work for to-day.’
‘Not my will—but papa’s!’ she cried. ‘Mr. Loseby, you know; you have always said I must change the will. Anne is to have the half—I settled it long ago. We are to put it all right. I want Anne to have the half—or nearly the half!’ she cried, with momentary hesitation, ‘before it is too late. Put it all down, and I will sign; the half, or as near the half as—— Quick! I want it all to be settled before it is too late!’
What did she mean by too late? Anne put her arm behind her sister to support her, and kissed her with trembling lips. ‘My Rosie!’ she cried, ‘my little sister!’ with tears brimming over. Mrs. Mountford threw down all her wools and rushed to her child’s side. They all drew close, thinking that ‘too late’ could only mean some fatal impression on the girl’s mind that she was going to die.
‘Yes, half: half is a great deal!’ said Rose, stammering, ‘nearly half, you know—I have always meant it. Why should I have all and she none? And she has not married Mr. Douglas—I don’t know why. I think—but it hasn’t come about—I want everybody to know, papa made a mistake; but I give it to her, I give it to her! Mr. Loseby, make a new will, and say that half—or nearly half—is to be for Anne. And oh! please, no more business—that will do for to-day.’
She got up and sat down as she was speaking, feverishly. She shook off her mother’s hand on her shoulder, gave up her hold upon Anne, drew her hand out of the Rector’s, who had clasped it, bidding God bless her, with tears running down his old cheeks. She scarcely even submitted to the pressure of Anne’s arm, which was round her, and did not seem to understand when her sister spoke. ‘Rose!’ Anne was saying, making an appeal to all the bystanders, ‘Do you know what she says? She is giving me everything back. Do you hear her—the child! My little Rosie! I don’t care—I don’t care for the money; but it is everything that she is giving me. What a heart she has! do you hear, do you all hear?—everything!’ Anne’s voice of surprise and generous joy went to all their hearts.
Mrs. Mountford made an effort to draw Rose towards herself. ‘There had better be no exaggeration—she said the half—and it is a great thing to do,’ said the mother thoughtfully. There was nothing to be said against it; still half was a great deal, and even Rose, though almost wild with excitement, felt this too.
‘Yes, half—I did not mean all, as Anne seems to think; half is—a great deal! Mr. Loseby, write it all down and I will sign it. Isn’t that enough—enough for to-day?’
‘Only one thing else,’ Mr. Loseby said. He put out his hand and took up the letter that was lying innocently among the other papers. ‘This letter,’ he said—but he was not allowed to go any further. Rose turned upon him all feverish and excited, and tore it out of his hands. ‘Anne!’ she cried, with a gasp, ‘Anne! I can’t hear any more to-day.’
‘No more, no more,’ said Anne, soothingly; ‘what do we want more, Mr. Loseby? She is quite right. If you were to secure the crown to me, you could not make me more happy. My little Rose! I am richer than the Queen!’ Anne cried, her voice breaking. But then, to the astonishment of everybody, Rose burst from her, threw down the letter on the table, and covered her face, with a cry shrill and sharp as if called forth by bodily pain.