She did not notice the interruption, but presently continued:
“Some days ago I asked my lawyer, Mr. Watson, to draw up my will. It was at once prepared and signed, and now stands as my last will and testament. I have given to you, Louise, the sum of five thousand dollars.”
Louise laughed nervously, and threw out her hands with an indifferent gesture.
“Many thanks, Aunt,” she said, lightly.
“To you, Beth,” continued Miss Merrick, “I have given the same sum.”
Beth’s heart sank, and tears forced themselves into her eyes in spite of her efforts to restrain them. She said nothing.
Aunt Jane turned to her brother.
“I have also provided for you, John, in the sum of five thousand dollars.”
“Me!” he exclaimed, astounded. “Why, suguration, Jane, I don’t — ”
“Silence!” she cried, sternly. “I expect neither thanks nor protests. If you take care of the money, John, it will last you as long as you live.”
Uncle John laughed. He doubled up in his chair and rocked back and forth, shaking his little round body as if he had met with the most amusing thing that had ever happened in his life. Aunt Jane stared at him, while Louise and Beth looked their astonishment, but Patsy’s clear laughter rang above Uncle John’s gasping chuckles.
“I hope, dear Uncle,” said she, mischievously, “that when poor Aunt
Jane is gone you’ll be able to buy a new necktie.”
He looked at her whimsically, and wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Thank you, Jane,” said the little man to his sister. “It’s a lot of money, and I’ll be proud to own it.”
“Why did you laugh.” demanded Aunt Jane.
“I just happened to think that our old Dad once said I’d never be worth a dollar in all my life. What would he say now, Jane, if he knew I stood good to have five thousand — if I can manage to outlive you?”
She turned from him with an expression of scorn.
“In addition to these bequests,” said she, “I have left five thousand to the boy and twenty thousand to Mr. Watson. The remainder of the property will go to Patricia.”
For a moment the room was intensely still. Then Patricia said, with quiet determination:
“You may as well make another will, Aunt. I’ll not touch a penny of your money.”
“Why not?” asked the woman, almost fiercely.
“You have been kind to me, and you mean well,” said Patricia. “I would rather not tell you my reasons.”
“I demand to know them!”
“Ah, aunt; can’t you understand, without my speaking?”
“No,” said the other; but a flush crossed her pale cheek, nevertheless.
Patsy arose and stumped to a position directly in front of Jane Merrick, where she rested on her crutches. Her eyes were bright and full of indignation, and her plain little face was so white that every freckle showed distinctly.
“There was a time, years ago,” she began in a low voice, “when you were very rich and your sister Violet, my mother, was very poor. Her health was bad, and she had me to care for, while my father was very ill with a fever. She was proud, too, and for herself she would never have begged a penny of anyone; but for my sake she asked her rich sister to loan her a little money to tide her over her period of want. What did you do, Jane Merrick, you who lived in a beautiful mansion, and had more money than you could use? You insulted her, telling her she belonged to a family of beggars, and that none of them could wheedle your money away from you!”
“It was true,” retorted the elder woman, stubbornly. “They were after me like a drove of wolves — every Merrick of them all — and they would have ruined me if I had let them bleed me as they wished.”
“So far as my mother is concerned, that’s a lie,” said Patsy, quietly. “She never appealed to you but that once, but worked as bravely as she could to earn money in her own poor way. The result was that she died, and I was left to the care of strangers until my father was well enough to support me.”
She paused, and again the room seemed unnaturally still.
“I’m sorry, girl,” said Aunt Jane, at last, in trembling tones. “I was wrong. I see it now, and I am sorry I refused Violet.”
“Then I forgive you!” said Patsy, impulsively. “I forgive you all, Aunt Jane; for through your own selfishness you cut yourself off from all your family — from all who might have loved you — and you have lived all these years a solitary and loveless life. There’ll be no grudge of mine to follow you to the grave, Aunt Jane. But,” her voice hardening, “I’ll never touch a penny of the money that was denied my poor dead mother. Thank God the old Dad and I are independent, and can earn our own living.”
Uncle John came to where Patsy stood and put both arms around her, pressing her — crutches and all — close to his breast. Then he released her, and without a word stalked from the room.
“Leave me, now,” said Aunt Jane, in a husky voice. “I want time to think.”
Patricia hobbled forward, placed one hand caressingly upon the gray head, and then bent and kissed Aunt Jane’s withered cheek.
“That’s right,” she whispered. “Think it over, dear. It’s all past and done, now, and I’m sorry I had to hurt you. But — not a penny, aunt — remember, not a penny will I take!”
Then she left the room, followed by Louise and Beth, both of whom were glad to be alone that they might conquer their bitter disappointment.
Louise, however, managed to accept the matter philosophically, as the following extract from her letter to her mother will prove:
“After all, it isn’t so bad as it might be, mater, dear,” she wrote. “I’ll get five thousand, at the very worst, and that will help us on our way considerably. But I am quite sure that Patsy means just what she says, and that she will yet induce Aunt Jane to alter her will. In that case I believe the estate will either be divided between Beth and me, or I will get it all. Anyway, I shall stay here and play my best cards until the game is finished.”
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.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 393
