“Six months?” suggested Noel Vanstone.
“Six months, sir,” rejoined Mrs. Lecount, “is the preferable time of the two. A six months’ interval from the day of your death is enough for Mr. George. You look discomposed, sir; what is the matter?”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk so much about my death,” he broke out, petulantly. “I don’t like it! I hate the very sound of the word!”
Mrs. Lecount smiled resignedly, and referred to her Draft.
“I see the word ‘decease’ written here,” she remarked. “Perhaps, Mr. Noel, you would prefer it?”
“Yes,” he said; “I prefer ‘Decease.’ It doesn’t sound so dreadful as ‘Death.’”
“Let us go on with the letter, sir.”
She resumed her dictation, as follows:
“...in either of those cases, I make it a condition of his receiving the legacy that he shall be married within the period of Six calendar months from the day of my decease; that the woman he marries shall not be a widow; and that his marriage shall be a marriage by Banns, publicly celebrated in the parish church of Ossory—where he has been known from his childhood, and where the family and circumstances of his future wife are likely to be the subject of public interest and inquiry.”
“This,” said Mrs. Lecount, quietly looking up from the Draft, “is to protect Mr. George, sir, in case the same trap is set for him which was successfully set for you. She will not find her false character and her false name fit quite so easily next time—no, not even with Mr. Bygrave to help her! Another dip of ink, Mr. Noel; let us write the next paragraph. Are you ready?”