‘“H’m!—that’s a pretty tale,” says the steward. “So I’ve come all this way about this trumpery little job for nothing!”
‘“O no, sir—I hope not,” says Netty. “I suppose the business of granting the new deed can be done just the same?”
‘“Done? Certainly not. He must pay the renewal money, and sign the parchment in my presence.”
‘She looked dubious. “Uncle is so dreadful nervous about law business,” says she, “that, as you know, he’s put it off and put it off for years; and now to-day really I’ve feared it would verily drive him out of his mind. His poor three teeth quite chattered when I said to him that you would be here soon with the parchment writing. He always was afraid of agents, and folks that come for rent, and such-like.”
‘“Poor old fellow—I’m sorry for him. Well, the thing can’t be done unless I see him and witness his signature.”
‘“Suppose, sir, that you see him sign, and he don’t see you looking at him? I’d soothe his nerves by saying you weren’t strict about the form of witnessing, and didn’t wish to come in. So that it was done in your bare presence it would be sufficient, would it not? As he’s such an old, shrinking, shivering man, it would be a great considerateness on your part if that would do?”
‘“In my bare presence would do, of course—that’s all I come for. But how can I be a witness without his seeing me?”
‘“Why, in this way, sir; if you’ll oblige me by just stepping here.” She conducted him a few yards to the left, till they were opposite the parlour window. The blind had been left up purposely, and the candle-light shone out upon the garden bushes. Within the agent could see, at the other end of the room, the back and side of the old man’s head, and his shoulders and arm, sitting with the book and candle before him, and his spectacles on his nose, as she had placed him.
‘“He’s reading his Bible, as you see, sir,” she says, quite in her meekest way.
‘“Yes. I thought he was a careless sort of man in matters of religion?”