“Feel not thus, Miles, my noble-hearted, manly brother. Heaven will not desert you, unless you desert your God; it does not desert me, but angels beckon me to its bliss! Were it not for you and Lucy, and my dear, dear guardian, the hour of my departure would be a moment of pure felicity. But we will not talk of this now. You must prepare yourself, Miles, to hear me patiently, and to be indulgent to my last wishes, even should they seem unreasonable to your mind at first.”
“I have told you, Grace, that a request of your’s will be a law to me; have no hesitation, therefore, in letting me know any, or all your wishes.”
“Let us, then, speak of worldly things; for the last time, I trust, my brother. Sincerely do I hope that this will be the last occasion on which I shall ever be called to allude to them. This duty discharged, all that will remain to me on earth will be the love I bear my friends. This Heaven itself will excuse, as I shall strive not to let it lessen that I bear my God.”
Grace paused, and I sat wondering what was to follow, though touched to the heart by her beautiful resignation to a fate that to most so young would seem hard to be borne.
“Miles, my brother,” she continued, looking at me anxiously, “we have not spoken much of your success in your last voyage, though I have understood that you have materially increased your means.”
“It has quite equalled my expectations; and, rich in my ship and ready money, I am content, to say nothing of Clawbonny. Do what you will with your own, therefore, my sister; not a wish of mine shall ever grudge a dollar; I would rather not be enriched by your loss. Make your bequests freely, and I shall look on each and all of them as so many memorials of your affectionate heart and many virtues.”
Grace’s cheeks flushed, and I could see that she was extremely gratified, though still tremblingly anxious.
“You doubtless remember that by our father’s will, Miles, my property becomes your’s, if I die without children before I reach the age of twenty-one; while your’s would have been mine under the same circumstances. As I am barely twenty, it is out of my power to make a legal will.”
“It is in your power to make one that shall be equally binding, Grace. I will go this instant for pen, ink, and paper; and, as you dictate, will I write a will that shall be even more binding than one that might come within the rules of the law.”
“Nay, brother, that is unnecessary; all I wish I have already said in a letter addressed to yourself; and which, should you now approve of it, will be found among my papers as a memorandum. But there should be no misapprehension between you and me, dearest Miles. I do not wish you even fully to consent to my wishes, now; take time to consider, and let your judgment have as much influence on your decision as your own excellent heart.”
“I am as ready to decide at this moment as I shall be a year hence. It is enough for me that you wish the thing done, to have it done, sister.”