Sometimes, even, they did not relent in making their wills.

She knew all about Miss Van Boozenberg's marriage with Tom Witchet, for it was no secret in society.

Was it possible her darling Alfred might be in actual danger of such penury--at least until he came into his property?
And what property was it, and what were the chances that old Burt would leave him a cent?
These considerations instantly occupied her mind as Mrs.Newt spoke; and she saw more clearly than ever the necessity of propitiating old Burt.
At length she asked, with an undismayed countenance, and with even a show of smiling: "But, Mrs.Newt, why do you take so cheerless a view of your husband's intentions in this matter ?" The words that her husband had spoken in his wrath had rung in Mrs.
Newt's mind ever since, and they now fell, echo-like, from her tongue.
"Because he said that, daughter or no daughter, she shall lie in the bed she has made." Mrs.Dinks could not help showing a little chagrin.

It was the sign for Mrs.Newt to burst into fresh sorrow.

Mrs.Dagon was as rigid as a bronze statue.
"Very well, then, Mrs.Newt," said her visitor, rising, "Mr.Newt will have the satisfaction of seeing his daughter starve." "Oh, her husband will take care of that," said the bronze statue, blandly.
"My son Alfred," continued Mrs.Dinks, "has an allowance of six hundred dollars a year, no profession, and expectations from his grand-uncle.
These are his resources.