Miss Yard also was fond of tea drinking, but she had no tenderness for china, and would generally release her cup in a vacuum, instead of placing it fairly upon the table; and express a vast amount of amusement at the ridiculous laws of nature when the cup exploded upon the carpet. She was particularly robust that afternoon and insisted upon pouring out tea herself. When the fragments, which filled two small baskets, had been removed, the steaming carpet mopped, and dryness restored, George seated himself beside the old lady, produced a sheet of foolscap covered with writing, and said in his most silvery voice: "Circumstances, my dear aunt, will compel me to leave you during the course of the next few days: but I cannot go until I have the satisfaction of knowing you have made a will in our dear Nellie's favour." "Good heavens--in my presence, too!" gasped the young lady. "I need not remind you of the goodness, the modesty, the unselfishness of our Nellie," he continued. "She would serve you for nothing, but nevertheless it is your duty to leave her all you can." "I can't stay and listen to this," cried the distressed beneficiary. "Don't interfere. She has always meant to do it, but never will unless we jog her memory," George whispered. "I'll have nothing to do with it," exclaimed Nellie; and out she went with a fine colour. "Is this something to do with that nasty robbery they call income tax?" asked Miss Yard. "This is your last will and testament," replied George solemnly. "I know you mean to leave everything to Nellie, but you can't do that unless you sign a will. You must die soon, you know; and, if it was to happen suddenly, Nellie would get nothing." "I did write out a paper, but somebody has hidden it away somewhere," said the old lady. "Pieces of paper are very little good," said George. "This is a properly drawn up will. When you have signed it I can go away quite happy, and I shall know dear Nellie will be provided for." "Will she have the house, and the furniture, and all my money?" asked Miss Yard eagerly. "Percy gets your money, but Nellie will have all that you may leave in the bank, any investments you may make, and the proportion of income up to the time of your death," said George learnedly. "Must I write my name somewhere?" "Yes, and two witnesses are required; but Nellie can't be one," said George, going to the window and gazing along the street for some honest person who could also write. Presently the Wallower in Wealth appeared, prospecting the gutter for any signs of gold dust. "I know he can write, for he signed a petition to uncle in favour of more frequent offertories in aid of the poor and needy," George muttered. Then he caught up the will, lest Miss Yard should scribble her name all over it during his absence, ran out into the street, and invited the scribe to step inside and witness Miss Yard's signature. "I'll do it on one condition," said the Wallower in Wealth. "What's that?" said George.