Part 24 (1/2)
”Yes, of course; I had forgotten. But did Mr. Newton say that he had a faint hope that he might have destroyed the other will?”
”He did; but it is not probable.”
”It would make an immense difference to us if he had.”
”Would it?” asked Kate, to extract an answer from her mother.
”Mr. Newton believes that if he died intestate you would inherit everything.”
”What! would not the little boys share?”
”I am not sure. But to get away from the subject, which somehow always draws me back to it, I have one bit of good news for you, my darling. I had a letter from Santley this morning. He will take my novel, and will give me a hundred and fifty pounds for it.”
”Really? Oh, this is glorious news! I am so delighted! Then you will get more for the next; you will become known and appreciated.”
”Do not be too sure; it may be a failure. And at present I do not feel as if I should ever have any ideas again. My brain seems so weary.”
”Perhaps,” whispered Katherine, ”you _may_ be able to rest. You are looking very tired and ill.”
Somewhat to her own surprise, Katherine slept profoundly that night. The delicious sense of comfort and security which her mother's presence brought soothed her ineffably. It seemed as if no harm could touch her while she felt the clasp of those dear arms.
The early forenoon brought Mr. Newton, and after a little preliminary talk respecting the arrangements he had made for the funeral, he proposed to look for the will which he had drawn up some years before, and which, to the best of his recollection, Mr. Liddell had taken charge of himself.
”Might you not wait until the poor old man is laid in his last home?
asked Mrs. Liddell.
”Perhaps it would be more seemly,” said the lawyer; ”but it is almost necessary to know who is the heir and who is the executor. Besides, it is quite possible that since he signed the will I drew up for him in '59, and to which I was executor, he may have made another, of which I know nothing, and I may have to communicate with some other executor. I will therefore begin the search at once. Would you and your daughter like to be present?”
”Thank you, no,” returned Mrs. Liddell.
”I would rather not,” said Katherine.
Mr. Newton proceeded on his search alone, while Mrs. Liddell and her daughter went to the latter's room, anxious to keep from meddling with what did not concern them.
Scarcely had the former settled herself to write a letter to an old friend in Florence with whom she kept up a steady though not a frequent correspondence, when she was interrupted by a tap at the door. Before she could say ”Come in,” it was opened to admit Mrs. Frederic Liddell, who came in briskly. She had taken out a black dress with c.r.a.pe on it, and retouched a mourning bonnet, so that she presented an appearance perfectly suited to the occasion.
”Oh dear!” she cried, ”I have been in such a state ever since I had your note! I thought I should never get away this morning. The stupidity of those servants is beyond description. Now do tell all about everything.”
She sat down suddenly, then jumped up, kissed her mother-in-law on the brow, and shook hands with Katherine.
”There is very little more to tell beyond what I said in my note,”
returned Mrs. Liddell. ”The poor old man never spoke or showed any symptom of life after he fell. Mr Newton, of course, will make all arrangements. The funeral will be on Friday, and Katherine and I will remain here till it is over.”
”And the will?” whispered Mrs. Frederic, eagerly. ”Have you found out anything about that?”
Mrs. Liddell shook her head. ”I have not even asked, so sure am I that it will not affect us in any way. Mr. Newton is now examining the bureau where my brother-in-law appears to have kept all his papers, hoping to find the will.”
”Is it not cruel to think of all this wealth pa.s.sing away from us?”
cried the little woman, in a tearful tone.