t sounded almost as though he were expected to
acquiesce in the outrageous proposition that members of his family
occasionally allowed moral to be overridden by practical considerations.
He could not conceive of himself admitting the possibility of such a
thing even in the secret recesses of his soul. It was most uncomfortable
to listen to his own father going on like this. He must be very ill
indeed--evidently at death's door.

He walked to the window and looked out gloomily upon the gray clouds
driving over the black chimney-cans. The wind had risen to a moderate
gale, and the air was filled with sounds. It struck him as a very
uproarious day for a Writer to the Signet to be going to his long home.
He had given his father credit for soberer tastes. In fact, he was
reminded unpleasantly of the riotous people he had heard of who passed
away in company with a pint of champagne and a cigar. This sort of thing
would really not do.

"About my will, Andrew," said his father's voice.

He turned with remarkable alacrity and a forgiving eye. At once he was
the deferential offspring.

"You'll find you're left very well off," continued Mr. Walkingshaw.

His son's cheeks bulged in a melancholy smile; precisely the right smile
under the circumstances.

"Not at the expense of the others, I hope," he answered modestly.

"Oh, I was meaning you'd be well off as a family."

The smile subsided.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Andrew.

"But of course you'll get the bulk."

The smile mournfully returned.

"You have the position to keep up, and I thought it only fair to you,"
said Mr. Walkingshaw.

Andrew bent his head in solemn acknowledgment of the truth of this
observation and the justice of the arrangement.

"There's just one little addendum I want to make. This unpleasant affair
of Jean's has set me thinking, and supposing I'm taken, Andrew--just
supposing--"

"Assuming it's as we fear--I understand, I understand."

"Well, then, you see, I'll not be here myself to keep Frank and Jean
from doing foolish-like things if they happen to have a mind to; and
they're not like you and their sisters. You've all chosen sensibly, but
they're in a kind of way different. I ought to have had them educated at
home."

"What I've always said," his son agreed.

"Anyhow, it's too late now, and what I'll just have to do is
this--introduce a clause making them forfeit their shares if they marry
without your consent in the next five ye