yet, sir."

"Mr. Bintrey," answered Wilding, gravely, "when I am going to die is
within other knowledge than yours or mine. I shall be glad to have this
matter off my mind, if you please."

"We are lawyer and client again," rejoined Bintrey, who, for the nonce,
had become almost sympathetic. "If this day week--here, at the same
hour--will suit Mr. Vendale and yourself, I will enter in my Diary that I
attend you accordingly."

The appointment was made, and in due sequence, kept. The will was
formally signed, sealed, delivered, and witnessed, and was carried off by
Mr. Bintrey for safe storage among the papers of his clients, ranged in
their respective iron boxes, with their respective owners' names outside,
on iron tiers in his consulting-room, as if that legal sanctuary were a
condensed Family Vault of Clients.

With more heart than he had lately had for former subjects of interest,
Wilding then set about completing his patriarchal establishment, being
much assisted not only by Mrs. Goldstraw but by Vendale too: who,
perhaps, had in his mind the giving of an Obenreizer dinner as soon as
possible. Anyhow, the establishment being reported in sound working
order, the Obenreizers, Guardian and Ward, were asked to dinner, and
Madame Dor was included in the invitation. If Vendale had been over head
and ears in love before--a phrase not to be taken as implying the
faintest doubt about it--this dinner plunged him down in love ten
thousand fathoms deep. Yet, for the life of him, he could not get one
word alone with charming Marguerite. So surely as a blessed moment
seemed to come, Obenreizer, in his filmy state, would stand at Vendale's