"Man, I tell you you were dreaming."
"Perhaps I was. If you'd driven her from the door you'd hardly bring me a will like that directly after. Even if you'd let her in, you might have guessed that she wouldn't have wanted to rob you of your five thousand."
"Of course she wouldn't, any more than I wanted to rob her. We women are not so bad as that, whatever you men may think."
"Put the will under my pillow--gently--with her miniature. As you say, I'll think things over. Maybe I'll sign it to-morrow."
[CHAPTER XII]
SIGNING THE WILL
Cuthbert Grahame did sign his last will and testament on the morrow, though hardly in the fashion he intended. The way in which he was tricked was this.
Before the woman who called herself his wife went down to her breakfast she paid him a morning call. He had had a more restful night than usual, so that he was in an exceptional good-humour. The sight of her seemed almost to give him pleasure. She was all smiles and sweetness, which were real enough, since she hoped to be shortly in possession of a boundless stock of happiness. He began on the subject directly he saw her.
"I'll sign that will of yours."
"That's right; so you shall. But won't you wait till after breakfast, then we can have up Jane and Martha to be witnesses."