"Ah, good-morning, sir! I was just on the point of going to Bellevue. Nothing serious has happened, I trust," said Maxwell, laying aside, with no apparent effort, his troubled visage, and assuming his usual bland demeanor.
"Nothing," replied the visitor, gruffly.
"Your niece left the office an hour since," continued Maxwell. "She requested me immediately to visit your brother."
"Which you have not done," returned the visitor, whom we will style Jaspar, to distinguish him from his brother, Colonel Dumont.
"But which I intend to do at once, a little matter having detained me longer than I supposed it would."
"I will save you the trouble. The business upon which my brother wished to see you was concerning his will."
"Indeed, sir! I hope he is not dangerously ill," said Maxwell, in apparent alarm.
"Not at all. The doctor says he will be out in a week; but he thinks otherwise, and is now engaged in putting his house in order," replied Jaspar, with a sickly smile.
"I am glad he is no worse, though it is better at all times to be prepared for the final event."
"Perhaps it is," said Jaspar, coldly. "Here is a rough draught of the will, which he wishes reduced to the usual form with all possible haste. Will it take you long?"