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Aunt Jane's Nieces
CHAPTER XIX.
DUPLICITY
Aunt Jane had a bad night, as might have been expected after her trials of the previous day.
She sent for Patricia early in the forenoon, and when the girl arrived she was almost shocked by the change in her aunt's appearance. The invalid's face seemed drawn and gray, and she lay upon her cushions breathing heavily and without any appearance of vitality or strength. Even the sharpness and piercing quality of her hard gray eyes was lacking and the glance she cast at her niece was rather pleading than defiant.
"I want you to reconsider your decision of yesterday, Patricia," she begun.
"Don't ask me to do that, aunt," replied the girl, firmly. "My mind is fully made up."
"I have made mistakes, I know," continued the woman feebly; "but I want to do the right thing, at last."
"Then I will show you how," said Patricia, quickly. "You mustn't think me impertinent, aunt, for I don't mean to be so at all. But tell me; why did you wish to leave me your money?"
"Because your nature is quite like my own, child, and I admire your independence and spirit."
"But my cousins are much more deserving," said she, thoughtfully.
"Louise is very sweet and amiable, and loves you more than I do, while
Beth is the most sensible and practical girl I have ever known."
"It may be so," returned Aunt Jane, impatiently; "but I have left each a legacy, Patricia, and you alone are my choice for the mistress of Elmhurst. I told you yesterday I should not try to be just. I mean to leave my property according to my personal desire, and no one shall hinder me." This last with a spark of her old vigor.
"But that is quite wrong, aunt, and if you desire me to inherit your wealth you will be disappointed. A moment ago you said you wished to do the right thing, at last. Don't you know what that is?"
"Perhaps you will tell me," said Aunt Jane, curiously.
"With pleasure," returned Patsy. "Mr. Bradley left you this property because he loved you, and love blinded him to all sense of justice. Such an estate should not have passed into the hands of aliens because of a lover's whim. He should have considered his own flesh and blood."
"There was no one but his sister, who at that time was not married and had no son," explained Aunt Jane, calmly. "But he did not forget her and asked me to look after Katherine Bradley in case she or her heirs ever needed help. I have done so. When his mother died, I had the boy brought here, and he has lived here ever since."
"But the property ought to be his," said Patricia, earnestly. "It would please me beyond measure to have you make your will in his favor, and you would be doing the right thing at last."
"I won't," said Aunt Jane, angrily.
"It would also be considerate and just to the memory of Mr. Bradley," continued the girl. "What's going to became of Kenneth?"
"I have left him five thousand," said the woman.
"Not enough to educate him properly," replied Patsy, with a shake of her head. "Why, the boy might become a famous artist, if he had good masters; and a person with an artistic temperament, such as his, should have enough money to be independent of his art."
Aunt Jane coughed, unsympathetically.
"The boy is nothing to me," she said.
"But he ought to have Elmhurst, at least," pleaded the girl. "Won't you leave it to him, Aunt Jane?"
"No."
"Then do as you please," cried Patsy, flying angry in her turn. "As a matter of justice, the place should never have been yours, and I won't accept a dollar of the money if I starve to death!"
"Think of your father," suggested Aunt Jane, cunningly.
"Ah, I've done that," said the girl, "and I know how many comforts I could buy for the dear Major. Also I'd like to go to a girl's college, like Smith or Wellesley, and get a proper education. But not with your money, Aunt Jane. It would burn my fingers. Always I would think that if you had not been hard and miserly this same money would have saved my mother's life. No! I loathe your money. Keep it or throw it to the dogs, if you won't give it to the boy it belongs to. But don't you dare to will your selfish hoard to me."
"Let us change the subject, Patricia."
"Will you change your will?"
"No.".
"Then I won't talk to you. I'm angry and hurt, and if I stay here I'll say things I shall be sorry for."
With these words she marched out of the room, her cheeks flaming, and
Aunt Jane looked after her with admiring eyes.
"She's right," she whispered to herself. "It's just as I'd do under the same circumstances!"
This interview was but the beginning of a series that lasted during the next fortnight, during which time the invalid persisted in sending for Patricia and fighting the same fight over and over again. Always the girl pleaded for Kenneth to inherit, and declared she would not accept the money and Elmhurst; and always Aunt Jane stubbornly refused to consider the boy and tried to tempt the girl with pictures of the luxury and pleasure that riches would bring her.
The interviews were generally short and spirited, however, and during the intervals Patsy associated more than ever with her cousins, both of whom grew really fond of her.
They fully believed Patricia when she declared she would never accept the inheritance, and although neither Beth nor Louise could understand such foolish sentimentality they were equally overjoyed at the girl's stand and the firmness with which she maintained it. With Patsy out of the field it was quite possible the estate would be divided between her cousins, or even go entire to one or the other of them; and this hope constantly buoyed their spirits and filled their days with interest as they watched the fight between their aunt and their cousin.
Patricia never told them she was pleading so hard for the boy. It would only pain her cousins and make them think she was disloyal to their interests; but she lost no opportunity when with her Aunt Jane of praising Kenneth and proving his ability, and finally she seemed to win her point.
Aunt Jane was really worn out with the constant squabbling with her favorite niece. She had taken a turn for the worse, too, and began to decline rapidly. So, her natural cunning and determination to have her own way enhanced by her illness, the woman decided to deceive Patricia and enjoy her few remaining days in peace.
"Suppose," she said to Mr. Watson, "my present will stands, and after my death the estate becomes the property of Patricia. Can she refuse it?"
"Not legally," returned the lawyer. "It would remain in her name, but under my control, during her minority. When she became of age, however, she could transfer it as she might choose."
"By that time she will have gained more sense," declared Aunt Jane, much pleased with this aspect of the case, "and it isn't reasonable that having enjoyed a fortune for a time any girl would throw it away. I'll stick to my point, Silas, but I'll try to make Patricia believe she has won me over."
Therefore, the very next time that the girl pleaded with her to make
Kenneth her heir, she said, with a clever assumption of resignation:
"Very well, Patricia; you shall have your way. My only desire, child, is to please you, as you well know, and if you long to see Kenneth the owner of Elmhurst I will have a new will drawn in his favor."
Patricia could scarcely believe her ears.
"Do you really mean it, aunt?" she asked, flushing red with pleasure.
"I mean exactly what I say, and now let us cease all bickerings, my dear, and my few remaining days will be peaceful and happy."
Patricia thanked her aunt with eager words, and said, as indeed she felt, that she could almost love Aunt Jane for her final, if dilatory, act of justice.
Mr. Watson chanced to enter the room at that moment, and the girl cried out:
"Tell him, aunt! Let him get the paper ready at once."
"There is no reason for haste," said Aunt Jane, meeting; the lawyer's questioning gaze with some embarrassment.
Silas Watson was an honorable and upright man, and his client's frequent doubtful methods had in past years met his severe censure. Yet he had once promised his dead friend, Tom Bradley, that he would serve Jane Merrick faithfully. He had striven to do so, bearing with her faults of character when he found that he could not correct them. His influence over her had never been very strong, however, and he had learned that it was the most easy as well as satisfactory method to bow to her iron will.
Her recent questionings had prepared him for some act of duplicity, but he had by no means understood her present object, nor did she mean that he should. So she answered his questioning look by saying:
"I have promised Patricia that you shall draw a new will, leaving all my estate to Kenneth Forbes, except for the bequests that are mentioned in the present paper."
The lawyer regarded her with amazement. Then his brow darkened, for he thought she was playing with the girl, and was not sincere.
"Tell him to draw up the paper right away, aunt!" begged Patricia, with sparkling eyes.
"As soon as you can, Silas," said the invalid.
"And, aunt, can't you spare a little more to Louise and Beth? It would make them so happy."
"Double the amount I had allowed to each of them," the woman commanded her lawyer.
"Can it all be ready to sign tonight?" asked Patsy, excitedly.
"I'll try, my dear," replied the old lawyer, gravely. Then he turned to Jane Merrick.
"Are you in earnest?" he asked.
Patsy's heart suddenly sank.
"Yes," was the reply. "I am tired of opposing this child's wishes. What do I care what becomes of my money, when I am gone? All that I desire is to have my remaining days peaceful."
The girl spring forward and kissed her rapturously.
"They shall be, aunt!" she cried. "I promise it."
CHAPTER XX.
IN THE GARDEN
From this hour Patsy devoted herself untiringly to Aunt Jane, and filled her days with as much sunshine as her merry ways and happy nature could confer. Yet there was one thing that rendered her uneasy: the paper that Lawyer Watson had so promptly drawn had never yet been signed and witnessed. Her aunt had allowed her to read it, saying she wished the girl to know she had acted in good faith, and Patsy had no fault at all to find with the document. But Aunt Jane was tired, and deferred signing it that evening. The next day no witnesses could be secured, and so another postponement followed, and upon one pretext or another the matter was put off until Patricia became suspicious.
Noting this, Aunt Jane decided to complete her act of deception. She signed the will in the girl's presence, with Oscar and Susan to witness her signature. Lawyer Watson was not present on this occasion, and as soon as Patsy had left her Miss Merrick tore off the signatures and burned them, wrote "void" in bold letters across the face of the paper, and then, it being rendered of no value, she enclosed it in a large yellow envelope, sealed it, and that evening handed the envelope to Mr. Watson with the request that it be not opened until after her death.
Patricia, in her delight, whispered to the lawyer that the paper was really signed, and he was well pleased and guarded the supposed treasure carefully. The girl also took occasion to inform both Beth and Louise that a new will had been made in which they both profited largely, but she kept the secret of who the real heir was, and both her cousins grew to believe they would share equally in the entire property.
So now an air of harmony settled upon Elmhurst, and Uncle John joined the others in admiration of the girl who had conquered the stubbornness of her stern old aunt and proved herself so unselfish and true.
One morning Aunt Jane had Phibbs wheel her into her little garden, as usual, and busied herself examining the flowers and plants of which she had always been so fond.
"James has been neglecting his work, lately," she said, sharply, to her attendant.
"He's very queer, ma'am," replied old Martha, "ever since the young ladies an' Master John came to Elmhurst. Strangers he never could abide, as you know, and he runs and hides himself as soon as he sees any of 'em about."
"Poor James!" said Miss Merrick, recalling her old gardener's infirmity. "But he must not neglect my flowers in this way, or they will be ruined."
"He isn't so afraid of Master John," went on Phibbs, reflectively, "as he is of the young ladies. Sometimes Master John talks to James, in his quiet way, and I've noticed he listens to him quite respectively – like he always does to you, Miss Jane."
"Go and find James, and ask him to step here," commanded the mistress, "and then guard the opening in the hedge, and see that none of my nieces appear to bother him."
Phibbs obediently started upon her errand, and came upon James in the tool-house, at the end of the big garden. He was working among his flower pots and seemed in a quieter mood than usual.
Phibbs delivered her message, and the gardener at once started to obey. He crossed the garden unobserved and entered the little enclosure where Miss Jane's chair stood. The invalid was leaning back on her cushions, but her eyes were wide open and staring.
"I've come, Miss," said James; and then, getting; no reply, he looked into her face. A gleam of sunlight filtered through the bushes and fell aslant Jane Merrick's eyes; but not a lash quivered.
James gave a scream that rang through the air and silenced even the birds. Then, shrieking like the madman he was, he bounded away through the hedge, sending old Martha whirling into a rose-bush, and fled as if a thousand fiends were at his heels.
John Merrick and Mr. Watson, who were not far off, aroused by the bloodcurdling screams, ran toward Aunt Jane's garden, and saw in a glance what had happened.
"Poor Jane," whispered the brother, bending over to tenderly close the staring eyes, "her fate has overtaken her unawares."
"Better so," said the lawyer, gently. "She has found Peace at last."
Together they wheeled her back into her chamber, and called the women to care for their dead mistress.
CHAPTER XXI.
READING THE WILL
Aunt Jane's funeral was extremely simple and quiet. The woman had made no friends during her long residence in the neighborhood, having isolated herself at "the big house" and refused to communicate in any way with the families living near by. Therefore, although her death undoubtedly aroused much interest and comment, no one cared to be present at the obsequies.
So the minister came from Elmwood, and being unable to say much that was good or bad of "the woman who had departed from this vale of tears," he confined his remarks to generalities and made them as brief as possible. Then the body was borne to the little graveyard a mile away, followed by the state carriage, containing the three nieces and Kenneth; the drag with Silas Watson and Uncle John, the former driving; and then came the Elmhurst carryall with the servants. James did not join these last; nor did he appear at the house after that dreadful scene in the garden. He had a little room over the tool-house, which Jane Merrick had had prepared for him years ago, and here he locked himself in day and night, stealthily emerging but to secure the food Susan carried and placed before his door.
No one minded James much, for all the inmates of Elhurst were under severe and exciting strain in the days preceding the funeral.
The girls wept a little, but it was more on account of the solemnity following the shadow of death than for any great affection they bore their aunt. Patsy, indeed, tried to deliver a tribute to Aunt Jane's memory; but it was not an emphatic success.
"I'm sure she had a good heart," said the girl, "and if she had lived more with her own family and cultivated her friends she would have been much less hard and selfish. At the last, you know, she was quite gentle."
"I hadn't noticed it," remarked Beth.
"Oh, I did. And she made a new will, after that awful one she told us of, and tried to be just and fair to all"
"I'm glad to hear that" said Louise. "Tell us, Patsy, what does the will say? You must know all about it."
"Mr. Watson is going to read it, after the funeral," replied the girl, "and then you will know as much about it as I do. I mustn't tell secrets, my dear."
So Louise and Beth waited in much nervous excitement for the final realization of their hopes or fears, and during the drive to the cemetery there was little conversation in the state carriage. Kenneth's sensitive nature was greatly affected by the death of the woman who had played so important a part in the brief story of his life, and the awe it inspired rendered him gloomy and silent. Lawyer Watson had once warned him that Miss Merrick's death might make him an outcast, and he felt the insecurity of his present position.
But Patsy, believing he would soon know of his good fortune, watched him curiously during the ride, and beamed upon him as frequently as her own low spirits would permit.
"You know, Ken," she reminded him, "that whatever happens we are always to remain friends."
"Of course," replied the boy, briefly.
The girl had thrown aside her crutches, by this time, and planned to return to her work immediately after the funeral.
The brief services at the cemetery being concluded, the little cavalcade returned to Elmhurst, where luncheon was awaiting them.
Then Mr. Watson brought into the drawing room the tin box containing the important Elmhurst papers in his possession, and having requested all present to be seated he said:
"In order to clear up the uncertainty that at present exists concerning Miss Merrick's last will and testament, I will now proceed to read to you the document, which will afterward be properly probated according to law."
There was no need to request their attention. An intense stillness pervaded the room.
The lawyer calmly unlocked the tin box and drew out the sealed yellow envelope which Miss Merrick had recently given him. Patsy's heart was beating with eager expectancy. She watched the lawyer break the seal, draw out the paper and then turn red and angry. He hesitated a moment, and then thrust the useless document into its enclosure and cast it aside.
"Is anything wrong?" asked the girl in a low whisper, which was yet distinctly heard by all.
Mr. Watson seemed amazed. Jane Merrick's deceitful trickery, discovered so soon after her death, was almost horrible for him to contemplate. He had borne much from this erratic woman, but had never believed her capable of such an act.
So he said, in irritable tones:
"Miss Merrick gave me this document a few days ago, leading me to believe it was her last will. I had prepared it under her instruction and understood that it was properly signed. But she has herself torn off and destroyed the signature and marked the paper 'void,' so that the will previously made is the only one that is valid."
"What do you mean?" cried Patsy, in amazement. "Isn't Kenneth to inherit Elmhurst, after all?"
"Me! Me inherit?" exclaimed the boy.
"That is what she promised me," declared Patsy, while tears of indignation stood in her eyes, "I saw her sign it, myself, and if she has fooled me and destroyed the signature she's nothing but an old fraud – and I'm glad she's dead!"
With this she threw herself, sobbing, upon a sofa, and Louise and Beth, shocked to learn that after all their cousin had conspired against them, forebore any attempt to comfort her.
But Uncle John, fully as indignant as Patricia, came to her side and laid a hand tenderly on the girl's head.
"Never mind, little one." he said. "Jane was always cruel and treacherous by nature, and we might have expected she'd deceive her friends even in death. But you did the best you could, Patsy, dear, and it can't be helped now."
Meantime the lawyer had been fumbling in the box, and now drew out the genuine will.
"Give me your attention, please," said he.
Patsy sat up and glared at him.
"I won't take a cent of it!" she exclaimed.
"Be silent!" demanded the lawyer, sternly. "You have all, I believe, been told by Miss Merrick of the terms of this will, which is properly signed and attested. But it is my duty to read it again, from beginning to end, and I will do so."
Uncle John smiled when his bequest was mentioned, and Beth frowned. Louise, however, showed no sign of disappointment. There had been a miserable scramble for this inheritance, she reflected, and she was glad the struggle was over. The five thousand dollars would come in handy, after all, and it was that much more than she had expected to have before she received Aunt Jane's invitation. Perhaps she and her mother would use part of it for a European trip, if their future plans seemed to warrant it.
"As far as I am concerned," said Patsy, defiantly, "you may as well tear up this will, too. I won't have that shameful old woman's money."
"That is a matter the law does not allow you to decide," returned the lawyer, calmly. "You will note the fact that I am the sole executor of the estate, and must care for it in your interests until you are of age. Then it will he turned over to you to do as you please with."
"Can I give it away, if I want to?"
"Certainly. It is now yours without recourse, and although you cannot dispose of it until you are of legal age, there will be nothing then to prevent your transfering it to whomsoever you please. I called Miss Merrick's attention to this fact when you refused to accept the legacy."
"What did she say?"
"That you would be more wise then, and would probably decide to keep it."
Patsy turned impulsively to the boy.
"Kenneth," she said, "I faithfully promise, in the presence of these witnesses, to give you Elmhurst and all Aunt Jane's money as soon as I am of age."
"Good for you, Patsy," said Uncle John.
The boy seemed bewildered.
"I don't want the money – really I don't!" he protested. "The five thousand she left me will be enough. But I'd like to live here at Elmhurst for a time, until it's sold or some one else comes to live in the house!"
"It's yours," said Patsy, with a grand air. "You can live here forever."
Mr. Watson seemed puzzled.
"If that is your wish, Miss Patricia," bowing gravely in her direction, "I will see that it is carried out. Although I am, in this matter, your executor, I shall defer to your wishes as much as possible."
"Thank you," she said and then, after a moment's reflection, she added: "Can't you give to Louise and Beth the ten thousand dollars they were to have under the other will, instead of the five thousand each that this one gives them?"
"I will consider that matter," he replied; "perhaps it can be arranged."
Patsy's cousins opened their eyes at this, and began to regard her with more friendly glances. To have ten thousand each instead of five would be a very nice thing, indeed, and Miss Patricia Doyle had evidently become a young lady whose friendship it would pay to cultivate. If she intended to throw away the inheritance, a portion of it might fall to their share.
They were expressing to Patsy their gratitude when old Donald suddenly appeared in the doorway and beckoned to Uncle John.
"Will you please come to see James, sir?" he asked. "The poor fellow's dying."
