"I am sure I am very sorry
that you were kept waiting, my dear Sir: but I was at the moment engaged
with an excellent and most Christian testator."--
Here he suddenly jumped and dried up again, for Mr. Meeson, without the
slightest warning, ejaculated: "Curse your Christian testator! And look
here, Todd, just you see that it does not happen again. I'm a Christian
testator too; and Christians of my cut aren't accustomed to be kept
standing about just like office-boys or authors. See that it don't happen
again, Todd."
"I am sure I am exceedingly grieved. Circumstances"--
"Oh, never mind all that--I want my will."
"Will--will--Forgive me--a little confused, that's all. Your manner is so
full of hearty old middle-age's kind of vigour"--
Here he stopped, more suddenly even than usual, for Mr. Meeson fixed him
with his savage eye, and then jerked himself out of the room to look for
the document in question.
"Little idiot!" muttered Meeson; "I'll give him the sack, too, if he
isn't more careful. By Jove! why should I not have my own resident
solicitor? I could get a sharp hand with a damaged character for about
L300 a year, and I pay that old Todd quite L2000. There is a vacant place
in the Hutches that I could turn into an office.
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