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Lyall, Edna [pseud.], 1857-1903

"Derrick Vaughan, Novelist"

"
"Not get leave to see his dying father? What confounded nonsense.
Give me the thing here"; and he snatched the telegram from Derrick
and read it in a quavering, hoarse voice:
"Impossible to get away. Am hopelessly tied here. Love to my
father. Greatly regret to hear such bad news of him."
I think that message made the old man realise the worth of
Lawrence's often expressed affection for him. Clearly it was a
great blow to him. He threw down the paper without a word and
closed his eyes. For half an hour he lay like that, and we did not
disturb him. At last he looked up; his voice was fainter and his
manner more gentle.
"Derrick," he said, "I believe I've done you an injustice; it is you
who cared for me, not Lawrence, and I've struck your name out of my
will--have left all to him. After all, though you are one of those
confounded novelists, you've done what you could for me. Let some
one fetch a solicitor--I'll alter it--I'll alter it!"
I instantly hurried out to fetch a lawyer, but it was Saturday
afternoon, the offices were closed, and some time passed before I
had caught my man.


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