Old Lady Mary | Page 4

don't want
you to think," even the doctor would say; "you have done enough of
thinking in your time." And this she accepted with great composure of
spirit. She had thought and felt and done much in her day; but now
everything of the kind was over. There was no need for her to fatigue
herself; and day followed day, all warm and sheltered and pleasant.
People died, it is true, now and then, out of doors; but they were mostly
young people, whose death might have been prevented had proper care
been taken,--who were seized with violent maladies, or caught sudden
infections, or were cut down by accident; all which things seemed
natural. Her own contemporaries were very few, and they were like
herself--living on in something of the same way. At eighty-five all
people under seventy are young; and one's contemporaries are very,
very few.
Nevertheless these men did disturb her a little about her will. She had
made more than one will in the former days during her active life; but
all those to whom she had bequeathed her possessions were dead. She
had survived them all, and inherited from many of them; which had
been a hard thing in its time. One day the lawyer had been more than
ordinarily pressing. He had told her stories of men who had died
intestate, and left trouble and penury behind them to those whom they
would have most wished to preserve from all trouble. It would not have
become Mr. Furnival to say brutally to Lady Mary, "This is how you
will leave your godchild when you die." But he told her story after
story, many of them piteous enough.
"People think it is so troublesome a business," he said, "when it is
nothing at all--the most easy matter in the world. We are getting so
much less particular nowadays about formalities. So long as the
testator's intentions are made quite apparent--that is the chief matter,

and a very bad thing for us lawyers."
"I dare say," said Lady Mary, "it is unpleasant for a man to think of
himself as 'the testator.' It is a very abstract title, when you come to
think of it."
"Pooh'" said Mr. Furnival, who had no sense of humor.
"But if this great business is so very simple," she went on, "one could
do it, no doubt, for one's self?"
"Many people do, but it is never advisable," said the lawyer. "You will
say it is natural for me to tell you that. When they do, it should be as
simple as possible. I give all my real property, or my personal property,
or my share in so-and-so, or my jewels, or so forth, to--whoever it may
be. The fewer words the better,--so that nobody may be able to read
between the lines, you know,--and the signature attested by two
witnesses; but they must not be witnesses that have any interest; that is,
that have anything left to them by the document they witness."
Lady Mary put up her hand defensively, with a laugh. It was still a
most delicate hand, like ivory, a little yellowed with age, but fine, the
veins standing out a little upon it, the finger-tips still pink. "You
speak," she said, "as if you expected me to take the law in my own
hands. No, no, my old friend; never fear, you shall have the doing of
it."
"Whenever you please, my dear lady--whenever you please. Such a
thing cannot be done an hour too soon. Shall I take your instructions
now?"
Lady Mary laughed, and said, "You were always a very keen man for
business. I remember your father used to say, Robert would never
neglect an opening."
"No," he said, with a peculiar look. "I have always looked after my
six-and-eightpences; and in that case it is true, the pounds take care of
themselves."

"Very good care," said Lady Mary; and then she bade her young
companion bring that book she had been reading, where there was
something she wanted to show Mr. Furnival. "It is only a case in a
novel, but I am sure it is bad law; give me your opinion," she said.
He was obliged to be civil, very civil. Nobody is rude to the Lady
Marys of life; and besides, she was old enough to have an additional
right to every courtesy. But while he sat over the novel, and tried with
unnecessary vehemence to make her see what very bad law it was, and
glanced from her smiling attention to the innocent sweetness of the girl
beside her, who was her loving attendant, the good man's heart was
sore. He said many hard things of her in his own mind as he went
away.
"She will die," he said bitterly.