CHAPTER VIII
A TANGLED INHERITANCE
George formally took over Windward House, with the exception of hisaunt's bedroom, the door of which was locked. Bessie admitted she heldthe key, but was not going to give it up to anybody except Kezia. In themeantime, Miss Yard wandered about the house, declaring that Maria hadalways been able to look after herself, scolding Nellie for wearingblack, "and making yourself look so small I can't see you," driving awayBessie by waving her hands and calling "Shoo!" but delighted with Georgebecause he looked bright and cheerful.
"Maria has been making up the past again," she said plaintively. "Shetold me I was good for nothing, and she wouldn't have me here anylonger. She keeps all my friends away from me--and now she has hidden mymoney."
"We'll look for it," said Nellie, glad of the excuse to lure her backinto the parlour. "I expect it is hidden in one of the usualplaces--inside the clock, or on top of the bookcase."
"It's no good looking there, Nellie. I have searched the wholehouse--and my cheque-book has gone too. My sister takes everything awayfrom me."
A pleasant quarter of an hour was spent in searching for the missing bagof money, which had been secreted with more than usual ingenuity. Thesegames of hide-and-seek were of daily occurrence, as Miss Yard would hideaway everything she possessed, and then accuse the others of robbery byviolence. On this occasion the little bag containing her spare cash hadbeen deposited behind the register; George made the discovery afternoticing a heap of soot upon the fender; and Miss Yard was moredelighted with him than ever.
"Percy always does the right thing," she declared. "He wrote to thathorrid man who said he was going to come and live here. Nellie, remindme tomorrow to pay off a mortgage on his railway."
"Percy grows tomatoes, Aunt. I am George, and I'm here to look afteryou," explained that gentleman uncomfortably.
"How silly people are!" said Miss Yard. "Of course it's tomatoes, andnot railways. I don't know why they talk about railways, but I supposeit's because Nellie and I missed a train the other day. Everybody mixesup George and Percy, but one is quite as good as the other. One qualityonly, and that's the best. Now I wonder where I read that."
Then she opened the canvas bag and gave George ten shillings because hewas so clever; and she gave a sovereign to Nellie because she was sogood; but she refused to give Bessie a present, as she felt positivethat young woman had conspired with Mrs. Drake to hide away her money.
"I must write to Maria and tell I've found it, and ask her to forget thepast like I do and begin all over again," she said, shuffling to herwriting table, where nearly every day she wrote letters which Nelliesubsequently destroyed.
"Don't try to make her understand," said this young lady to George. "Ihave told her Mrs. Drake is dead, and she quite realised it, but aminute later had forgotten all about it. It's no use worrying her. Shehas no memory, and hardly any mind, left; but she is perfectly healthyand enjoys life thoroughly. Really, it isn't such a bad state to be inafter all."
George rather looked forward to the funeral, as he meant to enjoy asettlement with Percy, who arrived only just in time to join the othersin the churchyard. Mrs. Drake's bedroom had been opened the day before:George discovered the will, while Kezia made off with the box which hadalways stood upon the chest of drawers.
After the ceremony they returned to Windward House. Presently George andPercy went into the garden to discuss business, assuming a brotherlyaffection, although George felt sure Percy entertained nothing but evilthoughts concerning him.
"That was rather a nasty letter you wrote to me, old chap--aboutclearing out of the place, you know," he began reproachfully.
"Aunt asked me to write it, and of course I had to. I don't want to rubit in, George, but you deceived the old lady badly, and you've been afrightful slacker," replied Percy.
"If it comes to deceit, I expect you put your best tomatoes on top ofthe basket," said George, opening a line of attack which made Percycough uneasily, before he attempted to point out the difference betweendeceiving hostile tradesmen and affectionate relatives. "What do youpropose doing?" he asked.
"This is my home," replied George firmly. "Somebody must be here to lookafter Aunt Sophy, keep up the property, and look after the servants."
"I suppose the place belongs to Aunt Sophy now, and in that case it willcome to me," said Percy sternly.
"Grab it all, old chap!" exclaimed George mockingly.
"It's like this," said Percy sharply. "I'm one of the trustees of theYard estate, and Hunter is the other. I dare say you have heard theaunts mention Hunter; he's a partner in Martin and Cross, the familysolicitors. I needn't go into the details of Mr. Yard's will, but ofcourse you know Aunt Maria enjoyed only a life interest in her share.Aunt Sophy now inherits the lot, but she can't touch the capital, all ofwhich comes to me at her death. That's the position."
"And here's mine! Oblige me by running your eye over this, my dearchap," invited George, producing his aunt's will.
Percy did so, frowning considerably, and when he had finished tried tomutter a few words of congratulation.
"Not so bad," chuckled George. "The whole place is mine, and everythingin it. Aunt Sophy is now my tenant."
"There's no mention of the house," objected Percy.
"Read this--'all I die possessed of.' The property belonged to aunt;left her by my uncle."
"But she bought the ground and built the house," cried Percy.
"Out of income," said the triumphant George.
"I suppose you'll be sending this to Martin and Cross?"
"It goes this evening by registered post. Aunt Sophy won't leaveHighfield. She will be enjoying the use of my house and my furniture. Inreturn she can give me board and pocket-money. Quite a decent scheme,old chap. Everybody satisfied! No grumblers!"
"I didn't know anything about this will," muttered Percy.
"You can't object to my staying here now--you can't order me out, mydear old chap. Nice little property, isn't it?" cried George riotously.
Percy had not much more to say, especially as he seemed in a hurry tocatch a train which would carry him towards London and Mr. Hunter'soffice. Immediately he had departed, Kezia approached and asked, "Can Ispeak to you vor a minute, please?"
"Certainly," replied the prosperous George, following her into thedining room, where Bessie towered beside the table upon which reposedthe sandalwood box taken from the late mistress's bedroom. George couldnot help noticing what a quantity of waste paper appeared to be lyingabout.
"This wur lying on the top," explained Kezia, presenting a slip uponwhich was written in his late aunt's handwriting, "This box is theproperty of Kezia, who has served me faithfully since her childhood."
"I ha' been wi' her forty years, and I don't know how I shall get alongwithout her. I feels as though she can't be gone vor ever, and will soonbe coming back again maybe," Kezia continued.
"She knows what be going on. She can see me, and you, and Mr. George,and she can tell what he'm thinking of," added Bessie.
"Went just like the Captain, all to once and no fuss. She said to memany a time, 'I wants to go like him, Kezia, nice and quick.' So shedid, poor dear! Lay down, and went to sleep, and never woke up againthis side Jordan. And the last thing she said wur, 'Kezia, I ain't feltso well as I be feeling now vor I can't tell ye how long.'"
"They'm always like that," said Bessie.
"What are all these papers?" asked George.
"These be mine," said Kezia, taking one bundle. "Those belong to Bess.This one is vor Miss Sophy. And this one is vor Nellie."
"Wasn't there one vor Mr. Percy?" inquired Bessie.
"Here's something on the floor," said George. He picked up the scrap ofpaper and read, "I should like Percy to have something to remember meby. He can take the pair of silver candlesticks given me by his motheras a wedding present."
"He can't have them," said Bessie, looking across at Kezia.
"No, that he can't," said Kezia, staring rather un
easily at Bessie.
"What are all these papers?" George demanded, feeling in his pocket, tomake sure that the will was safe.
"Will ye please to read 'em?" replied Kezia, extending her bundle.
George opened the first and read, "I want Kezia to have all thefurniture in her bedroom, also six dining room chairs, my sofa, and thelargest bookcase." The second paper included, for Kezia's benefit, muchof the furniture in the parlour, together with "the pair of silvercandlesticks given me by Louisa as a wedding present." The third papermentioned most of the articles in Mrs. Drake's bedroom, with thegrandfather clock, the Chinese vases, "and anything else Mr. George doesnot want." And so the lists ran on, until Kezia had been left everythingin the house several times over.
Then Bessie proffered her bundle with a sorrowful smile. First of allshe was to have the bed she had once slept on, then all the furniture inher bedroom, much of that in the parlour, half of that in the diningroom, with "the pair of silver candlesticks given me by Louisa as awedding present," most of the ornaments including the Chinese vases, theEgyptian mummy, and "any other little thing Mr. George does not careabout."
Nellie was to have the round table in the parlour, which had beenalready bestowed upon both Kezia and Bessie. While Sophy was requestedto take the musical box and "the pair of silver candlesticks given me asa wedding present by Louisa."
"This is a nice business!" George muttered.
"Seems to be rather a lot of mixing up, don't it!" said Bessie.
"I can see what has happened," George continued. "Poor old aunt neverhad much of a memory, and, when she put away one of these papers in thebox, she forgot about the others. Some of them were written when I was achild--the ink is beginning to fade--while others are quite recent."
"She would write 'em in the evening. I've seen her doing it. And whenshe went into her bedroom, she would put it into the box quick and lockit up. She wouldn't let no one touch that box," said Kezia.
"You see she wanted to leave you something to remember her by, and shenever looked into the box to see what she had written."
"I suppose we mustn't take the things now?" asked Bessie hurriedly.
"Nothing wur to be touched, Bess, while Miss Sophy lived. Even Mr.George warn't to touch anything," said Kezia with unnecessary irony;since, according to these scraps of paper, George had nothing to take.
"I have the will which was made soon after I came to live with my uncleand aunt. There is no mention of Miss Yard," said George firmly.
"Mrs. Drake wrote a paper and gave it to Miss Sophy. And Miss Sophywrote a paper and gave it to Mrs. Drake. Here it is!" exclaimed Kezia,diving to the bottom of the box, which contained brooches and othertrinkets dropped in from time to time. "You see, Mr. George,' If I diebefore Maria, all my furniture is to belong to her.' And 'tis signedSophy Yard."
"What did my aunt write on her paper?" cried George, as a horriblethought flashed across his mind.
"Just the same. If she died avore Miss Sophy, everything she possessedwur to belong to her."
"And she has died before Aunt Sophy after all," George muttered.
"Why, so she has! I never thought of that avore," said Bessie.
George refused to discuss the matter further, pointing out that nothingcould be done during Miss Yard's lifetime, although he had no intentionof remaining inactive until then. Escaping into a quiet place, he soughtto find a solution of the problem thus suddenly presented to him. By aproperly attested will the entire furniture of Windward House had beenleft to him; this furniture had been left also to Miss Yard by a roughkind of agreement; the same furniture had been bestowed upon Kezia bymeans of a number of scraps of paper which were certainly not legaldocuments; while the greater part of the furniture had been alsobequeathed to Bessie by means of similar scraps of paper. The conclusionarrived at by George was that the will must prevail over all otherdocuments, although it was difficult to see how he could preventpilfering; and his final wise decision was to preserve silenceconcerning these scraps of paper in all his subsequent dealings withMessrs. Martin and Cross and Mr. Percy Taverner.
"I feel sure Kezia and Bessie cannot claim anything, but I'm afraid thelawyers may say the will is cancelled by the document given to AuntSophy," George muttered. "But then they needn't know anything about it.All the business will be done through the trustees and myself. Theydon't know, and I shan't tell them. I'd better strike up a friendshipwith Percy; I'll conciliate him; I'll sacrifice the pair of silvercandlesticks."
He went home, sealed the will in an envelope, and addressed it toMessrs. Martin and Cross. Then wrote to Percy, explaining his discoveryof a scrap of paper written by their late aunt, expressing a wish thatthe candlesticks should be given to him upon her death. "Of course theyare mine really," he wrote, "but I feel that I ought to respect herwishes, especially as the candlesticks were given her as a weddingpresent by your mother."
Kezia and Bessie remained chattering vigorously after George departedfrom them, but neither ventured to speak upon the subject whichthreatened to convert friendship into rivalry. It was true, owing to anunfortunate slip of the tongue, Bessie mentioned how grand the silvercandlesticks would look upon her mantelpiece; but Kezia merely repliedthat Mrs. Drake had been very generous to Mr. George in leaving him awill as a remembrance of her, although she presently administered arebuke by speaking about her future retirement, when she looked forwardto reading her books of religious instruction by the light of waxcandles set in the candlesticks aforesaid. To which Bessie repliedsomewhat feebly they wouldn't be of any use to Miss Yard because sheused a reading lamp. She could not trust herself to say more, but, whengathering up her share of the testamentary documents preparatory todeparture, another idea occurred, and she asked, "Who do the housebelong to?"
"Mrs. Drake said to me a lot of times it wur to go to Miss Sophy."
"Who gets it when she dies?"
"I don't know. If nobody else wants it, I don't mind taking it," saidKezia.
"Mr. George is sure to ask vor it," said Bessie, moving slowly towardsthe door.
"Well, he won't get it," replied Kezia sharply.
Bessie crossed the road and welcomed Robert from the bakery with theannouncement that a domestic crisis was impending. Robert studied thedocuments, and agreed with his wife they would certainly be called uponto fight for their rights. Then he asked for information concerningGeorge, and Bessie replied, "He ain't to get nothing."
"Didn't Mrs. Drake leave 'en a will?" questioned the cautious Robert.
"Kezia ses it ain't really a will. It's a codicil, and that means hegets nothing 'cept the little bit o' money in the bank, and he'll haveto pay out all that vor the funeral expenses. Miss Sophy gets the house,and me and Kezia has the furniture."
"Then Mr. George is ruined!" exclaimed Robert.
"Best thing what could happen to 'en," said Bessie.
Robert had his tea, then went out into the village to report. Since thedays when he had first gazed upward, fascinated by the altitude ofBessie's windswept features, he had acted as an intermediary betweenWindward House and the general public, bringing the scandal, fresh andgreasy as his own doughnuts; and bearing to the village green--which wasnot so green as it sounded, for the signpost represented a risingsun--valuable items of information regarding Mrs. Drake's most recentact of charity, or Miss Yard's latest partition of a tea service. Onthis occasion he brought news which was to set all the tongues wagging:George Drake, the most respected man in Highfield, the sole gentleman,the fearless idler, was now a homeless fellow, a destitute person,without a scrap of inheritance he could call his own. The Drake whomthey had honoured as a swan was hardly worth the price of a goose.
A gentleman was not defined by the worthies of Highfield as a man ofgood birth, but as one who declined all labour. George had fulfilledthis definition admirably. An idler, it was argued, possessed amplemeans, and for that cause he was respected. Highfield required nothingfurther of him, except that he should wear decent clothing and not beseen with his
coat off, digging potatoes or nailing two pieces of boardtogether; even the picking of peas was a dangerous pastime, while mowingthe lawn would have meant an irremediable loss of caste. It couldhonestly be said of George that he had done nothing disgraceful; he hadkept his hands clean; he was far more of a gentleman than his uncle hadbeen. And now he was exposed as a common impostor who had been wearingan order of chivalry to which he was not entitled.
"I always thought," said the Wallower in Wealth, who, above all men,had respected George, "that when Mrs. Drake died he would have hermoney."
Everybody in the place had thought the same; and were now to realisethat George had bitterly deceived them.
"He don't get nothing," declared Robert. "The furniture comes to Bessie,and the house goes to Miss Yard."
"What do old Kezia get?" inquired a charitable voice.
"What me and Bessie like to give her," replied Robert.
George went to sleep that night sure of his position as the most popularman in Highfield parish; for everybody knew how the odious scheme of aDartmoor railway had been brought to nothing owing to his strenuousopposition. Nor did he suppose, upon going into the village thefollowing morning, that his glory had departed. He was thereforeunpleasantly surprised to be greeted by nodding of heads, and no longerby hands uplifted to the forehead. Highfield nodded to equals, andtouched hats to superiors. George did not like the omen.
The Yellow Leaf was enjoying a large slice of bread upon which butter,cream, and jam were piled in lavish quantities; and when George inquiredafter Mrs. Y. Leaf, he received the answer, spoken with some asperity:
"Her be tedious this morning. Ses her be going quick, and I be to hurryafter; but I tells she I b'ain't agoing to hurry."
"Would you like to buy my giant tortoise? I'll sell him for fiveshillings," George continued.
"What would I do wi' a tor-toys?" asked the Yellow Leaf with greatdeliberation.
"It's a nice friendly animal," explained George.
"Would he make gude eating?" asked the Yellow Leaf.
"Might be a bit tough, but he'd make splendid soup," said George.
"I ha' no craving vor gigantic tor-toyses, thankye. And if I did cravevor 'en, how be I to know he'm yours to sell?"
"Of course it's mine. Everything belongs to me," said George sharply.
"Then you have been told lies."
"I ha' heard another tale."
"I hears plenty o' they. Don't ye ever think o' driving that old toat ofa tor-toys into my garden, vor if you does I'll kick 'en." And withthese words the Yellow Leaf withdrew into his cottage, munching severelyat his bread and jam.
Bessie has been talking, thought George, as he went along the road, topause beside a potato patch where Squinting Jack was whistling as heworked. He looked up and nodded, then went on digging, while Georgedrew near and remarked:
"I'm selling off the animals."
"Sorry I b'ain't a butcher, sir," said Squinting Jack.
"I've got a very good half Persian cat for sale at two shillings,"George continued.
"How much would ye charge vor the whole cat?" asked Squinting Jack.
"I mean it's part Persian."
"Which part?" asked the humourist.
George laughed somewhat feebly, while Squinting Jack continued, "I'vegot a whole English cat what you can have vor nothing."
By this time George had discovered he was not so well liked as formerly,and the reason was not far to seek: Kezia and Bessie were advertisingtheir own triumph and trumpeting his misfortunes. George went a longwalk, climbed a steep hill, and sat upon the summit, trying to work outa plan of campaign which might enable him to obtain the victory over allhis enemies.
"Why not shift the responsibility?" he muttered at length. "That's theplan right enough--shift it on to Percy. He wants to run the wholeshow--why not let him?"
George meditated yet more deeply, rubbing his head which was nothinglike so dense as his relations had supposed. "Percy means to do me, soit's my duty to do him. When you want to catch anything you set a trap.And now I've got it!" George shouted exultantly. "I'll tempt Percy withthe furniture--I'll get him to buy it! Then I shall have the cash, whilehe can settle with Kezia and Bessie, and all the rest of the beastly,selfish, money grabbing crowd."