L. Frank Baum_Aunt Jane 01 (15 page)

"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."

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.

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."