Luck and Pluck 28

Luck and Pluck 28

Mrs. Oakley held the will in her hand irresolutely. Should she follow

out her first intention, and burn it? A feeling of apprehension as to

the possible consequences of her act prevented her. The flame had gone

out, leaving the corner scorched, and slightly burned; but apart from

this the will was uninjured.

 

After a pause of deliberation, Mrs. Oakley blew out the candle, and,

taking the will, opened the upper drawer of her bureau, and deposited

it carefully inside. She locked it securely, and, putting the key in

her pocket, went downstairs.

 

Before doing so, however, she went to the closet in which she kept her

wardrobe, and, selecting a handsome silk cape, took it down with her.

 

"Hannah," she said, "here's a cape I shall not use again. It doesn't

fit me exactly. If you would like it, it is yours."

 

"Thank you, ma'am," said the astonished Hannah, for this was the first

present she had ever received from her mistress; "you're very kind

indeed. It is an elegant cape."

 

"Yes, it is a nice one. I am glad you like it."

 

"The mistress must be crazy," thought the bewildered Hannah. "I never

knew her to do such a thing before, and I've lived here three years

come October."

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXI.

 

SQUIRE SELWYN'S CALL.

 

 

Mrs. Oakley's door-bell rang, and Hannah answered the summons.

 

"Is Mrs. Oakley at home?" inquired Squire Selwyn, for it was he.

 

"Yes, sir. Will you walk in?"

 

"I think I will. Let her know that I wish to see her, if you please."

 

Hannah did as directed.

 

"Squire Selwyn?" asked Mrs. Oakley. "Where is he?"

 

"In the parlor."

 

"Very well. I will go in at once."

 

"Has he found out anything about John, I wonder?" thought Mrs. Oakley.

 

"Good-morning, sir," she said, as she entered the lawyer's presence.

 

"Good-morning, Mrs. Oakley."

 

"Is your family well?"

 

"Quite well. My son tells me that John has been absent from school for

two or three days past."

 

"Yes."

 

"He is not sick, I suppose?"

 

"No."

 

"You will excuse my questions; but his father and myself were very

intimate friends. Is he at home?"

 

"No, he is not."

 

"I suppose you have no objection to telling me where he is?"

 

"Suppose I have?" said Mrs. Oakley, coolly.

 

"Then I should think it very strange."

 

"You are at liberty to think it very strange," said Mrs. Oakley,

composedly.

 

"Why should you object to telling me that he went away with your

brother, Mr. Huxter, and is now at his house?"

 

Mrs. Oakley started in surprise. The lawyer was better informed than

she supposed.

 

"If you knew," she answered, after a slight pause, "why need you

inquire?"

 

"I wished to know whether you had sent him away, intending to keep his

destination a secret."

 

"I suppose he has written to you."

 

"He did write to me; but the letter was suppressed by your brother.

May I inquire whether this was by your wish?"

 

"What you tell me is news to me," said Mrs. Oakley; "but I have no

hesitation in saying that my brother understands my wishes, and will

carry them out."

 

"I am answered," said the lawyer. "Is it your intention to permit John

to continue his studies preparatory for college?"

 

"It is not."

 

"It was his father's wish and intention. That wish ought to be sacred

with you."

 

"I understand my duty."

 

"I trust you will do something more than understand it," said the

lawyer, gravely. "I must remonstrate with you on your intentions with

regard to John. He is an excellent scholar, and his abilities are

superior. It would be a great pity that he should be debarred from the

privilege of a college education."

 

"You say he is an excellent scholar," said Mrs. Oakley. "Then, if his

education is already so excellent, there is no further need of his

studying. He can begin to earn his living."

 

"Surely you do not mean what you say. If he were poor, and such a

necessity existed, it would be well enough that he should go to work;

but you well know that no such necessity exists."

 

"I am not going to support him in idleness," said Mrs. Oakley, coolly.

 

"As a student in college he would lead far from an idle life," said the

lawyer. "Study is hard work, and college distinction is never won by a

lazy student."

 

"It may be work, though to my mind it is not; but it brings in no

money."

 

"Not at first, perhaps, but it prepares the student for remunerative

employment in after life."

 

"I don't think much of colleges."

 

Though Mrs. Oakley said this, she would have been very glad to have Ben

in college, not that she cared so much to have him a scholar, but it

would give him a good social standing.

 

"I don't know," said Squire Selwyn, rather sharply, for he was getting

out of patience with Mrs. Oakley,--"I don't know that it matters much

what your opinion of colleges is. It was, as you know, the desire and

intention of your late husband that John should enter college. It is

your moral duty to carry out that intention."

 

"I don't care to be told what is my duty," said Mrs. Oakley, her eyes

flashing.

 

"Do you propose to be independent of public opinion?"

 

"Perhaps you mean your opinion?"

 

"Not mine alone. Let me tell you, Mrs. Oakley, that in defrauding John

Oakley of the privileges which his father meant him to enjoy, you are

wronging the dead as well as the living,--not John alone, but the dead

husband from whom all your money comes."

 

"He chose to leave all his money to me," said Mrs. Oakley, "Probably he

thought that I would know how to dispose of it without outside advice."

 

"I am not so sure that he did leave his money to you," said the lawyer,

significantly.

 

Mrs. Oakley flushed. Could he know that the will was found?

Involuntarily she put her hand to her pocket, where the will was at

that moment lying concealed. But a moment's reflection satisfied

her that Hannah, who had not left the house, could not have had a

communication with Squire Selwyn. Besides, there was no probability of

Hannah's suspecting the nature of the document which she had seen in

the candle.

 

"You have not forgotten that there was a will executed three months

before Mr. Oakley died," added Squire Selwyn,--"a will by which John

would have come into possession of two-thirds of the estate."

 

"I have heard a great deal about that will," retorted Mrs. Oakley.

"Undoubtedly my husband destroyed it, as unjust to me."

 

"I don't see how it was unjust to you. It left the property as the law

would have left it."

 

"Very well, where is the will? If you will produce it, I shall of

course surrender to John all except the third which comes to me."

 

"I wish I could produce it."

 

"But you can't," said Mrs. Oakley, triumphantly, looking the lawyer in

the face.

 

"In my opinion it has never been properly searched for," said the

lawyer. "I have the strongest reason to believe that it exists."

 

"May I inquire what is that reason?" asked Mrs. Oakley.

 

"Mr. Oakley, in his last sickness, spoke to John about the will."

 

"What did he say about it?" asked the lady. "This is the first I have heard of it."