‘Perfectly so,’ responded the elder of the two legal men; ‘And if you will permit me to say so, I congratulate you, Lady Carlyon, on your strength of mind. Had the other will remained in force, your hardly-earned fortune would have soon been squandered.’ She answered nothing. After a little pause she spoke again. ‘You quite understand that, in the event of my death, you yourself take possession of my last manuscript, and place it personally in the hands of my publishers?’ ‘Quite so. Everything shall be carried out in exact accordance with your instructions.’ ‘You think,’ she went on hesitatingly—‘that I have given him enough to live upon?’ ‘More than enough—more than he deserves, said the lawyer. ‘To be the possessor of two hundred and fifty a year for life is a great advantage in these days. Of course,’ and he laughed a little, ‘he’ll not be able to afford tandem-driving and the rest of his various amusements, but he can live comfortably and respectably if he likes. That is quite sufficient for him.’ ‘He has already a sum in his own private bank, which, if placed at interest, will bring him in more than another hundred,’ said Delicia, meditatively. ‘Yes, I think it is sufficient. He cannot starve, and he is sure to marry again.’ ‘But you talk as if you were going to leave us at once and for ever, Lady Carlyon,’ and the old lawyer looked somewhat concerned as he observed the extreme pallor of her face and the feverish splendour of her eyes. ‘You will live for many and many a long day yet to enjoy the fruit of your own intellectual labours—’ ‘My dear sir, pray do not talk of my “intellectual labours!” In the opinion of my husband and of men generally, especially unsuccessful men, these very labours have rendered me “unsexed.” I am not a woman at all, according to their idea! I have neither heart nor feeling. I am simply a money-making machine, grinding out gold for my “lord and master” to spend.’ Her lawyer looked distressed. ‘If you remember, I told you some time back that I thought you were unaware of your husband’s extravagance,’ he said. ‘I put it as “extravagance,”—because I was unwilling to convey to you all the rumours I had actually heard. Men are naturally fickle; and my experience is that they always take benefits badly, thinking all good fortune their right. You made a mistake, I consider, to trust Lord Carlyon so completely.’ ‘What would you have of me?’ asked Delicia, simply. ‘I loved him!’