valid will. You did me the honor--"

"No, no!" he interrupted in a low but rather strangely vehement protest.
"I begged the favor--"

"As you like! The favor then, of asking me to give you my opinion as your
friend, as well as my view as Mr. Saffron's doctor."

Beaumaroy did not rise from his knees, but turned his face towards her;
the logs had blazed up, and his eyes looked curiously bright in the
glare, themselves, as it were, afire.

"In my opinion a man of sensitive honor would prefer that that will
should not be made, Mr. Beaumaroy," said Mary steadily.

Beaumaroy appeared to consider. "I'm a bit posed by that point of view,
Dr. Arkroyd," he said at last, "Either the old man's sane--_compos
mentis,_ don't you call it?--or he isn't. If he is--"

"I know. But I feel that way about it."

"You'd have to give evidence for me!" He raised his brows and
smiled at her.

"There can be undue influence without actual want of mental
competence, I think."

"I don't know whether my influence is undue. I believe I'm the only
creature alive who cares twopence for the poor old gentleman."