CHAPTER XXXIMRS. PRESTON'S INTENTIONS
Godfrey returned home on the day after his father's death. He hadnever witnessed death before, and it frightened him, for the time,into propriety. He exhibited none of the stormy and impetuous griefwhich a warm-hearted and affectionate boy would have been likely toexhibit. It was not in his nature.
When he and his mother were left alone, he showed his resemblance toher, by asking:
"Do you know how much property father left?"
"I don't know. He never told me about his affairs as he ought. I thinkhe must have left near a hundred thousand dollars."
Godfrey's eyes sparkled.
"That's a pile of money," he said. "It goes to me, don't it?"
"To us," said Mrs. Preston.
"A woman doesn't need so much money as a man," said Godfrey,selfishly.
"You are not a man yet," said his mother, dryly. "Your father may haveleft a will. In that case, he may have left a part of his property toothers."
"Do you think he has?" inquired Godfrey, in alarm.
"I don't think any will will be found," said his mother, quietly. "Henever spoke to me of making one."
"Of course not. That wouldn't be fair, would it?"
"It is fitting that the property should all go to us."
"When shall I get mine?"
"When you are twenty-one."
"That's a long time to wait," said Godfrey, grumblingly.
"You are only a boy yet. I shall probably be your guardian."
"I hope you'll give me a larger allowance than father did."
"I will."
"Must I go back to boarding school? I don't want to."
"If I go to Boston to live, as I think I shall, I will take you withme, and you can go to school there."
"That'll be jolly," said Godfrey, his eyes sparkling withanticipation. "I've got tired of this miserable town."
"So have I," said his mother. "We shall have more privileges inBoston."
"I can go to the theater as often as I please there, can't I?"
"We will see about that."
"How soon shall we move to the city?"
"As soon as business will allow. I must settle up your father'saffairs here."
"Can't I go beforehand?"
"Would you leave me alone?" asked his mother, with a little touch ofwounded affection, for she did feel attached to her son. He was theonly one, indeed, for whom she felt any affection.
"You won't miss me, mother. It'll be awfully stupid here, and you knowyou'll be coming to the city as soon as you get through with thebusiness."
Mrs. Preston was disappointed, but she should not have been surprised.Her only son reflected her own selfishness.
"It would not look well for you to go to the theater just at thepresent," she said.
"Why not?"
"So soon after your father's death."
Godfrey said nothing, but looked discontented. It was early to thinkof amusement, while his father lay yet unburied in the next room. Heleft the room, whistling. He could not gainsay his mother'sobjections, but he thought it hard luck.
A funeral in a country village is a public occasion. Friends andneighbors are expected to be present without invitation. Among thosewho assembled at the house were Mrs. Burke and Andy. They felt trulysorry for the death of Colonel Preston, who had been a friend to both.Mrs. Preston saw them enter, and, notwithstanding the solemnity of theoccasion, the thought intruded: "They're after the legacy, but theywill be disappointed. I've taken good care of that."
Godfrey saw them, also, and his thought was a characteristic one:
"What business has that Irish boy at my father's funeral? He ought toknow better than to poke himself in where he is not wanted."
Even Godfrey, however, had the decency to let this thought remainunspoken. The services proceeded, and among those who followed on footin the funeral procession were Andy and his mother. It never occurredto them that they were intruding. They wanted to show respect for thememory of one who had been a friend to them.
On the day after the funeral Squire Tisdale called at the house,invited by Mrs. Preston. The squire had a smattering of law, and oftenacted as executor in settling estates.
"I invited you to come here, Squire Tisdale," said Mrs. Preston, "tospeak about my affairs. Of course, it is very trying to me to think ofbusiness so soon after the death of my dear husband"--here shepressed her handkerchief to her tearless eyes--"but I feel it to be myduty to myself and my boy."
"Of course," said the squire, soothingly. "We can't give way to ourfeelings, however much we want to."
"That is my feeling," said Mrs. Preston, whose manner was wonderfullycool and collected, considering the grief which she desired to have itthought she experienced for her husband.
"Did Colonel Preston leave a will?" asked the squire.
"I don't think he did. He never mentioned making one to me. Did youever hear of his making any?"
"I can't say that I ever did. I suppose it will be best to search."
"Won't it be more proper for you to make the search, Squire Tisdale?"said the widow. "I am an interested party."
"Suppose we search together. You can tell me where your husband kepthis private papers."
"Certainly. He kept them in his desk. I locked it as soon as he died;but here is the key. If there is a will, it is probably there."
"Very probably. We shall soon ascertain, then."
Squire Tisdale took the key, and Mrs. Preston led the way to her latehusband's desk. A momentary fear seized her.
"What if there was an earlier will, or two copies of the last?" shethought. "I ought to have made sure by looking over the other papers."
But it was too late now. Besides, it seemed very improbable that thereshould be another will. Had there been an earlier one, it would,doubtless, have been destroyed on the drafting of the one she hadfound. She reassured herself, therefore, and awaited with tranquillitythe result of the search.
The search was careful and thorough. Mrs. Preston desired that itshould be so. Knowing the wrong she had done to Andy and his mother,as well as the town, she was unnecessarily anxious to appear perfectlyfair, and assured Squire Tisdale that, had there been a will, itsprovisions should have been carried out to the letter.
"There is no will here," said the squire, after a careful search.
"I did not expect you would find one," said the widow; "but it wasnecessary to make sure."
"Is there any other place where your husband kept papers?"
"We will look in the drawers and trunks," said Mrs. Preston; "but Idon't think any will be found."
None was found.
"Can I do anything more for you, Mrs. Preston?" asked the squire.
"I should like your advice, Squire Tisdale. I am not used to business,and I would like the aid of your experience."
"Willingly," said the squire, who felt flattered.
"As my husband left no will, I suppose the estate goes to my son andmyself?"
"Undoubtedly."
"How ought I to proceed?"
"You should apply for letters of administration, which will enable youto settle up the property."
"Will you help me to take the necessary steps?"
"Certainly."
"I should like to settle the estate as rapidly as possible, as Iintend to remove to Boston."
"Indeed? We shall be sorry to lose you. Can you not content yourselfhere?"
"Everything will remind me of my poor husband," said Mrs. Preston,with another application of the handkerchief to her still tearlesseyes.
Squire Tisdale was impressed with the idea that she had more feelingthan he had thought.
"I didn't think of that," he said, sympathetically. "No doubt you areright."
Mrs. Preston lost no time in applying for letters of administration.
"As soon as I get them," she said to herself, "I will lose no time inejecting that Irishwoman from the house my husband bought for her.I'll make her pay rent, too, fo
r the time she has been in it."