Jervis hesitated a little, and then said that she
believed Mr. Brown had not gone to bed yet; for he had been going over
the cellar, and was making up his accounts. Jervis was so explanatory
that her mistress divined what was meant. "I suppose I have been spoiling
sport, keeping you here," she said good-humoredly; for it was well known
that Miss Jervis and Mr. Brown were engaged, and that they were only
waiting (everybody knew but Lady Mary, who never suspected it) the death
of their mistress, to set up a lodging-house in Jermyn Street, where they
fully intended to make their fortune. "Then go," Lady Mary said, "and
call Brown. I have a little business paper to write, and you must both
witness my signature." She laughed to herself a little as she said this,
thinking how she would steel a march on Mr. Furnival. "I give, and
bequeath," she said to herself playfully, after Jervis had hurried away.
She fully intended to leave both of these good servants something, but
then she recollected that people who are interested in a will cannot sign
as witnesses. "What does it matter?" she said to herself gayly; "If it
ever should be wanted, Mary would see to that." Accordingly she dashed
off, in her pretty, old-fashioned handwriting, which was very angular and
pointed, as was the fashion in her day, and still very clear, though
slightly tremulous, a few lines, in which, remembering playfully Mr.
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