‘I’ve planned it all in my mind,’ said he. ‘It is to be for her alone, mind you; her husband shall never touch a penny that I can keep from him. He’s an impudent upstart. He spoke to me as no man ever ventured to speak before; and I doubt he’s brought me to my grave, through being upset the way I was. Take that pen and paper, Blackford, and set it down just as I tell you. The money is to be invested, and the income to be paid to my niece Lucy Wedlake as long as she lives; after her death, the capital is to be divided equally among the children. If she has no children, it’s all to go to the Vintners’ Company. That cuts out Thomas Wedlake, doesn’t it? That’s all right.—Now about yourself. I suppose you consider that you’re an injured man, don’t you—hey?’ To this question, put with some approach to Uncle Franklin’s usual manner and tone, Mr Blackford found it difficult, in the then state of his emotions, to make any reply whatever. He managed to stammer out, with a ghastly attempt at a smile, that he was aware that he had no right to expect—— ‘No more you had,’ interrupted Mr Franklin; ‘that’s very true; so there’s little harm done. Though I don’t say but what I’ll do something for you too. That has happened to me which makes a man think of things he usen’t to mind. Maybe I’ve no right to disappoint you altogether, after what I led you to expect. I might have employed another lawyer to make this will; but I thought you were entitled to have what business was to be got out of the thing. And you shan’t say I was unhandsome. Put yourself down for a thousand pounds.’ Mr Blackford expressed his gratitude as well as he could, which was not very well; but it was a great deal more than he felt under the circumstances. ‘You have named no trustees,’ said he, recovering himself a little; ‘it will be necessary to do so. I myself should be very happy’——