Emery, his one thought being the big commission upon the business, entered Mrs. Morrison's room twenty-four hours later with a number of papers in his hand.
He sat down with the rich widow, and put before her the proposal form—a paper which had printed upon it a long list of questions, mostly inquisitorial. The bed-rock question of that document was "Who are you, and are you subject to any of the ills that human flesh is heir to?"
Question after question she read, and her answers he wrote down in the space reserved for them. Once or twice she hesitated before replying, but he put down her hesitation to a natural reserve.
The filling up of the form took some time, after which she appended her signature in a bold hand, and this completed the proposal.
"I fear it will be necessary for you to go to London to pass the doctor," he said. "When would that be convenient?"
"Any time after next Wednesday," she replied. "As a matter of fact, I have some shopping to do in town before I return to Scotland, so I can kill two birds with one stone."
"Excellent! They will, of course, make it as easy for you as possible. You will hear from Mr. Gray at the head office. Where shall you stay in town?
"With a friend of mine—a Mrs. Pollen." And she gave him an address in Upper Brook Street which he wrote down.
Before eleven o'clock Mrs. Morrison had dispatched a telegram addressed to "Braybourne, 9b, Pont Street, London," which read:
"All preliminaries settled. Shall be in London end of week.—AUGUSTA MORRISON."