“When I ring. Go.” Then he turned to Aunt Anne. “Now I will tell you why this young man loved you.” He said the last words with an almost fiendish chuckle. “He loved you because, being a clerk in his uncle’s office, the office from which he had to be kicked, he probably knew—in fact, I am certain that he knew, for he came to ask me your Christian name when the instructions were being given—that I had provided for you in my will. I do not choose to pauperize people while I live, but I considered it my duty to leave some portion of my wealth to my relations, no matter how small a claim they had upon me. He knew that you would get a fourth share of my money—probably he reckoned it up and calculated that it would amount to a good many thousand pounds, so he and Boughton concocted a scheme to get hold of it together.” “Mr. Boughton knew nothing of our marriage.” “I tell you it was all a scheme. What should Boughton allow you a hundred a year for?” He was grasping the will while he spoke. “He knew nothing about it, William—neither did Alfred.” “Well, we’ll put his disinterestedness to the test”—and he tried to tear the will in half, but his fingers were too weak. “Oh no,” she cried; “no—no——” “Do you suppose a young man would marry an old woman like you for any reason but gain? That you should have been such a fool! and for that unwholesome-looking cur, with his long, rickety legs and red hair—why, he looks like a stale prawn,” the old man said derisively, and made another effort to tear the will. “I cannot bear it—William, I implore you”—and she clasped her hands with terror. He leaned forward with an effort, and put the will on the fire. “Oh no, no—” she cried again, and, dropping on her knees, she almost snatched it from the flames. He took the poker between his two white hands, and held the paper down with it. “It is cruel—cruel——” she began, as she watched it disappear from her sight. “I think I have made the case clear,” he said; “and you will see that there is nothing to be gained by staying. My money was not made to benefit Mr. Alfred Wimple. I shall make another will, and it will not contain your name.” He rang the bell again. “You have treated me cruelly—cruelly—but Heaven will frustrate you yet——” she said tremblingly, as she rose from her knees. Anguish and dignity were strangely blended in her voice, but after a moment it seemed as if the latter had gained the victory, “You and I will probably never meet again, William; you have insulted me cruelly, and you will remember it when it is too late to ask my forgiveness. You have insulted me and treated me heartlessly, yet it was beside us when we were children that our mothers——” the servant entered with a cup of chicken-broth. “Good-bye, Mrs. Alfred Wimple,” Sir William said politely. “Charles, show Mrs. Wimple downstairs.”