Part 45 (2/2)
When he and his mother were left alone, he showed his resemblance to her, 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 think he must have left near a hundred thousand dollars.”
G.o.dfrey'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 G.o.dfrey, selfishly.
”You are not a man yet,” said his mother, dryly. ”Your father may have left a will. In that case, he may have left a part of his property to others.”
”Do you think he has?” inquired G.o.dfrey, in alarm.
”I don't think any will will be found,” said his mother, quietly. ”He never 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 G.o.dfrey, 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 with me, and you can go to school there.”
”That'll be jolly,” said G.o.dfrey, his eyes sparkling with antic.i.p.ation. ”I've got tired of this miserable town.”
”So have I,” said his mother. ”We shall have more privileges in Boston.”
<script>