"Oh no, my dear," answered Sir Adam; "don't forget me, you know." "You, Adam!" Her tone expressed an extraordinary conflict of varying sentiment--amusement, affection, reproach, a retrospective distrust of what might have been, but could not be, considering Sir Adam's age. "Never mind me, then," he answered. "I've made a will cutting Brook off with nothing if he marries Mrs. Crosby, and I'm going to send her a copy of it to-day. That will be enough, I fancy." "Adam!" "Yes--what? Do you disapprove? You always say that you are a practical woman, and you generally show that you are. Why shouldn't I take the practical method of stopping this woman as soon as possible? She wants my money--she doesn't want my son. A fortune with any other name would smell as sweet." "Yes--but--" "But what?" "I don't know--it seems--somehow--" Lady Johnstone was perplexed to express what she meant just then. "I mean," she added suddenly, "it's treating the woman like a mere adventuress, you know--" "That's precisely what Mrs. Crosby is, my dear," answered Sir Adam calmly. "The fact that she comes of decent people doesn't alter the case in the least. Nor the fact that she has one rich husband, and wishes to get another instead. I say that her husband is rich, but I'm very sure he has ruined himself in the last two years, and that she knows it. She is not the woman to leave him as long as he has money, for he lets her do anything she pleases, and pays her well to leave him alone. But he has got into trouble--and rats leave a sinking ship, you know. You may say that I'm cynical, my dear, but I think you'll find that I'm telling you the facts as they are." "It seems an awful insult to the woman to send her a copy of your will," said Lady Johnstone. "It's an awful insult to you when she tries to get rid of her husband to marry your only son, my dear." "Oh--but he'd never marry her!" "I'm not sure. If he thought it would be dishonourable not to marry her, he'd be quite capable of doing it, and of blowing out his brains afterwards." "That wouldn't improve her position," observed the practical Lady Johnstone. "She'd be the widow of an honest man, instead of the wife of a blackguard," said Sir Adam. "However, I'm doing this on my own responsibility. What I want is that you should witness the will." "And let Mrs. Crosby think I made you do this? No--" "Nonsense. I sha'n't copy the signatures--" "Then why do you need them at all?" "I'm not going to write to her that I've made a will, if I haven't," answered Sir Adam. "A will isn't a will unless it's witnessed. I'm not going to lie about it, just to frighten her. So I want you and Mrs. Bowring to witness it." "Mrs. Bowring?" "Yes--there are no men here, and Brook can't be a witness, because he's interested. You and Mrs. Bowring will do very well. But there's another thing--rather an extraordinary thing--and I won't let you sign with her until you know it. It's not a very easy thing to tell you, my dear."