Enraged at seeing how completely his victim had thrown off his influence, and at the same time indulging a vague hope that he might recover it, Charlton’s lips began to work as if he were hesitating whether to try his old game of browbeating or to adopt a conciliatory course. A suspicion that the lady was disenchanted, and no longer subject to any spell he could throw upon her, led him to fall back on the more prudent policy; and he replied: “I have concealed nothing from the parties with whom I am negotiating. I have told them the precise situation of our affairs; but they have urged this contingency: your wife, it is true, is dependent, but her rich relatives may die and leave her a bequest. We will give you the money you want, if you will satisfy us that you are her heir.” “You fatigue me,” said the invalid. “You wish me to make a will in your favor. You have the instruments all drawn up and ready for my signature in your pocket; and on the opposite side of the street you have three men in waiting who may serve as witnesses.” “But who told you this?” exclaimed Charlton, confounded. “Your own brain by its motions told it,” replied the wife. “I am rather sensitive to impressions, you see. Strike one of the chords of a musical instrument, and a corresponding chord in its duplicate near by will be agitated. Your drift is apparent. The allusions under which I have labored in regard to you have vanished, never, never to return! How I deferred the moment of final, irrevocable estrangement! How I strove, by meekness, love, and devotion, to win you to the better choice! How I shut my eyes to your sordid traits! But now the infatuation is ended. You are powerless to wound or to move me. The love you spurned has changed, not to hate, but to indifference. Free to choose between God and Mammon, you have chosen Mammon, and nothing I can say can make you reconsider your election.” “You do me injustice, my wife, my dearest—” “Psha! Do not blaspheme. We understand each other at last. Now to business. You want me to sign a will in your favor, leaving you all the property I may be possessed of at the time of my death. Would you know when that time will be?” “Do not speak so, Emily,” said Charlton, in tones meant to be pathetic. “It may be an agreeable surprise to you,” continued the invalid, “to learn that my time in this world will be up the tenth of next month. I will sign the will, on one condition.” “Name it!” said Charlton, eagerly. “The condition is, that you pay Toussaint a thousand dollars cash down as an indemnity for the expense he has been at on my account, and to cover the costs of my funeral.” With difficulty Charlton curbed his rage so far as to be content with the simple utterance, “Impossible!” “Then please go,” said the invalid, taking up a silver bell to ring it.