The Moonstone - Page 191/404

The signing of the Will was a much shorter matter than I had

anticipated. It was hurried over, to my thinking, in indecent haste.

Samuel, the footman, was sent for to act as second witness--and the pen

was put at once into my aunt's hand. I felt strongly urged to say a

few appropriate words on this solemn occasion. But Mr. Bruff's manner

convinced me that it was wisest to check the impulse while he was in the

room. In less than two minutes it was all over--and Samuel (unbenefited

by what I might have said) had gone downstairs again.

Mr. Bruff folded up the Will, and then looked my way; apparently

wondering whether I did or did not mean to leave him alone with my aunt.

I had my mission of mercy to fulfil, and my bag of precious publications

ready on my lap. He might as well have expected to move St. Paul's

Cathedral by looking at it, as to move Me. There was one merit about him

(due no doubt to his worldly training) which I have no wish to deny.

He was quick at seeing things. I appeared to produce almost the same

impression on him which I had produced on the cabman. HE too uttered

a profane expression, and withdrew in a violent hurry, and left me

mistress of the field.

As soon as we were alone, my aunt reclined on the sofa, and then

alluded, with some appearance of confusion, to the subject of her Will.

"I hope you won't think yourself neglected, Drusilla," she said. "I mean

to GIVE you your little legacy, my dear, with my own hand."

Here was a golden opportunity! I seized it on the spot. In other words,

I instantly opened my bag, and took out the top publication. It proved

to be an early edition--only the twenty-fifth--of the famous anonymous

work (believed to be by precious Miss Bellows), entitled THE SERPENT AT

HOME. The design of the book--with which the worldly reader may not be

acquainted--is to show how the Evil One lies in wait for us in all the

most apparently innocent actions of our daily lives. The chapters best

adapted to female perusal are "Satan in the Hair Brush;" "Satan behind

the Looking Glass;" "Satan under the Tea Table;" "Satan out of the

Window'--and many others.

"Give your attention, dear aunt, to this precious book--and you will

give me all I ask." With those words, I handed it to her open, at a

marked passage--one continuous burst of burning eloquence! Subject:

Satan among the Sofa Cushions.

Poor Lady Verinder (reclining thoughtlessly on her own sofa cushions)

glanced at the book, and handed it back to me looking more confused than

ever.

"I'm afraid, Drusilla," she said, "I must wait till I am a little

better, before I can read that. The doctor----"