The lawyer had hard work before he could bring his client to this point; but he did at last succeed in doing so, and Percival Nowell's name was written in the will.
"I don't suppose Nowell will thank me much for what I've done, though I've had difficulty enough in doing it," Mr.Medler said to himself, as he walked slowly homewards after this prolonged conference in Queen Anne's Court.

"For of course the chances are ten to one against his surviving his daughter.

Still these young women sometimes go off the hooks in an unexpected way, and he _may_ come into the reversion." There was only one satisfaction for the attorney, and that lay in the fact that this long, laborious interview had been all in the way of business, and could be charged for accordingly: "To attending at your own house with relation to drawing up the rough draft of your will, and consultation of two hours and a half thereupon;" and so on.

The will was to be executed next day; and Mr.Medler was to take his clerk with him to Queen Anne's Court, to act as one of the witnesses.

He had obtained one other triumph in the course of the discussion, which was the insertion of his own name as executor in place of Gilbert Fenton, against whom he raised so many specious arguments as to shake the old man's faith in Marian's jilted lover.
Percival Nowell dropped in upon his father that night, and smoked his cigar in the dingy little parlour, which was so crowded with divers kinds of merchandise as to be scarcely habitable.