“A hundred pounds to the Army Temperance Association, though I think it is a jackass of an institution. A hundred pounds to the Soldiers’ Home at Aldershot, and a thousand pounds if they make it non-sectarian.” He grinned and added: “It will be Church of England to everlasting doomsday, so that money’s safe! And,” he added, “no money to the Cottage Hospital here--do not let that bequest creep in. That stupid maniac of a doctor--I forget his beastly name--led the agitation for opening a right-o’-way across my estate. I will ‘right-o’-way’ him!” he said viciously. He spent half an hour specifying the people who were not to benefit by his will, and the total amount of his reluctant bequests during that period did not exceed a thousand pounds. When he had finished he stared hopelessly at the young lawyer, and a momentary glint of humour came in the hard old blue eyes. “I think we have disposed of everybody,” he said, “without disposing of anything. Do you know my nephew?” he asked suddenly. “I know a friend of your nephew.” “Are you related to that grinning idiot Leslie Frankfort?” roared the old man. “He is my brother,” said the other calmly. “Humph,” said the General, “I thought I recognised the face. Have you met Gilbert Standerton?” he asked suddenly. “I have met him once or twice,” said Jack Frankfort carelessly, “as you may have met people, just to say ‘how do you do?’ and that sort of thing.” “I have never met people to say ‘how do you do?’ and that sort of thing,” protested the old man with a snort. “What sort of fellow do you think he is?” he asked after a pause. The injunction of Leslie to “say a good word for Gilbert” came to the young man’s mind. “I think he is a very decent sort of fellow,” he said, “though somewhat reserved and a little stand-offish.” The old man glowered at him. “My nephew stand-offish?” he snapped, “Of course he is stand-offish. Do you think a Standerton is everybody’s money? There is nothing Tommyish or Dickish or Harryish about our family, sir. We are all stand-offish, thank God! I am the most stand-offish man you ever met in your life.” “That I can well believe,” thought Jack, but did not give utterance to his thought. Instead he pursued the subject in his own cunning way. “He is the sort of man,” he said innocently “whom I should think money would be rather wasted on.” “Why?” asked the General with rising wrath. Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Well, he makes no great show, does not attempt to keep any particular place in London Society. In fact, he treats Society as though he were superior to it.”