HARD. Yours, sir. (With the glass half way to his lips, he checks
himself, giving a dubious glance at the wine, and adds, with quaint
intensity.) Will anyone oblige me with a glass of water?

Essie, who has been hanging on his every word and movement, rises
stealthily and slips out behind Mrs. Dudgeon through the bedroom door,
returning presently with a jug and going out of the house as quietly as
possible.

HAWKINS. The will is not exactly in proper legal phraseology.

RICHARD. No: my father died without the consolations of the law.

HAWKINS. Good again, Mr. Dudgeon, good again. (Preparing to read) Are
you ready, sir?

RICHARD. Ready, aye ready. For what we are about to receive, may the
Lord make us truly thankful. Go ahead.

HAWKINS (reading). "This is the last will and testament of me Timothy
Dudgeon on my deathbed at Nevinstown on the road from Springtown to
Websterbridge on this twenty-fourth day of September, one thousand
seven hundred and seventy seven. I hereby revoke all former wills made
by me and declare that I am of sound mind and know well what I am doing
and that this is my real will according to my own wish and affections."

RICHARD (glancing at his mother). Aha!

HAWKINS (shaking his head). Bad phraseology, sir, wrong phraseology. "I
give and bequeath a hundred pounds to my younger son Christopher
Dudgeon, fifty pounds to be paid to him on the day of his marriage to
Sarah Wilkins if she will have him, and ten pounds on the birth of each
of his children up to the number of five."

RICHARD. How if she won't have him?

CHRISTY. She will if I have fifty pounds.

RICHARD. Good, my brother. Proceed.

HAWKINS. "I give and bequeath to my wife Annie Dudgeon, born Annie
Primrose"--you see he did not know the law, Mr. Dudgeon: your mother
was not born Annie: she was christened so--"an annuity of fifty-two
pounds a year for life (Mrs. Dudgeon, with all eyes on her, holds
herself convulsively rigid) to be paid out of the interest on her own
money"--there's a way to put it, Mr. Dudgeon! Her own money!

MRS. DUDGEON. A very good way to put God's truth. It was every penny my
own. Fifty-two pounds a year!

HAWKINS. "And I recommend her for her goodness and piety to the
forgiving care of her children, having stood between them and her as
far as I could to the best of my ability."

MRS. DUDGEON. And this is my reward! (raging inwardly) You know what I
think, Mr. Anderson you know the word I gave to it.