Part 25 (1/2)
”Perhaps, if I wait a little longer, this admirable Mr. Newton may find something,” resumed Mrs. Fred, pausing, and reluctant to move.
”If he does I will let you know immediately,” said Katherine; ”but there are numbers of little drawers in the bureau; it will take him a long time to look through them all.”
”Have you seen the inside of it?” asked Mrs. Fred, greedily.
”I have seen my uncle writing at it,” returned Katherine; ”but I never had an opportunity of examining it.”
”Well, I suppose I had better go. I am evidently not wanted here!”
exclaimed Mrs. Frederic, longing to quarrel with some one, being in that condition of mind aptly described as ”not knowing what to be at.”
Finding no help from her auditors, she went reluctantly away.
”I wish poor Ada would not allow her imagination to run away with her.
It will be such a disappointment when she finds it is all much ado about nothing,” said Mrs. Liddell, as she returned to her letter. ”I am afraid, Katie dear, you have had a great shock; you do not look a bit like yourself.”
”I feel dazed and stupid, but I dare say I shall be all right to-morrow.” She took a book and pretended to read, while her mother's pen scratched lightly and quickly over the paper.
The light was beginning to change, when a message from Mr. Newton summoned both mother and daughter to the sitting-room, where they found him awaiting them.
”I have looked most carefully through the bureau, and can find no sign of the will. There are various papers and account-books, a very clear statement of his affairs, and about a hundred and fifteen pounds of ready money, but no will. I have also looked in his writing-table drawer, his wardrobe, and every possible and impossible place. It may be at my office, though I am under the impression he took charge of it himself. There is a possibility he may have deposited it at his banker's or his stock-broker's, though that is not probable.”
”It is curious,” remarked Mrs. Liddell, feeling she must say something.
”Pray,” resumed Newton, addressing Katherine, ”have you ever seen him tearing up or burning papers?”
She thought for a moment, and then said quietly, ”No, I never have.”
”I can do no more here, at least to-day,” Newton went on. ”I must bid you a good-afternoon. You may be sure I will leave nothing undone to discover the missing will, and I can only say I earnestly hope I may not be successful.”
CHAPTER X.
”FRUITION.”
The funeral over, Mrs. Liddell and her daughter went back to their modest home, feeling as though they had pa.s.sed through some strange dream, which had vanished, leaving ”not a wrack behind.”
To Katherine it was like fresh life to return to the natural cheerful routine of her daily cares and employments, to struggle good-humoredly with indifferent servants, to do battle with her little nephews over their lessons, to walk with them and tell them stories. At times she almost forgot that the diligently sought will lay in its innocent-looking cover among her clothes, or that any results would flow from her daring and criminal act; then again the consciousness of having weighted her life with a secret she must never reveal would press painfully upon her, and make her greedy for the moment when Mr. Newton would relinquish the search, and she should reap the harvest she expected.
She never believed that her uncle was as rich as Ada supposed, but she did hope for a small fortune which might secure comfort and ease.
Mrs. Frederic Liddell was a real affliction during this period. The idea of inheriting John Liddell's supposed wealth was never absent from her thoughts, and seldom from her lips. Even the boys were infected by her gorgeous antic.i.p.ations.
”I shall have a pony like that, and a groom to ride beside me,” Cecil would cry when his attention was caught by any young equestrian. ”And I will give you a ride, auntie. Shall you have a carriage too, or will you drive with mammy?”
”And I shall have a beautiful dog, like Mrs. Burnett's, and a garden away in the country,” was Charlie's scheme. ”You shall come and dig in it, auntie.”
”Do not think of such things, my dears,” was auntie's usual reply. ”I am afraid we shall never be any richer than we are; so you must be diligent boys, and work hard to make fortunes for yourselves.”
”Where did Uncle Liddell keep all his money?” was one of Cecil's questions in reply. ”Did he keep it in big bags downstairs? He hadn't a nice house; it was quite a nasty one.”