Aunt Jane's Nieces
Patsy wrote a
long letter to the major, telling him she would be home in three days,
and then she went to bed and slept peacefully.
After breakfast they were all again summoned to the drawing-room, to
their great surprise. Lawyer Watson and Uncle John were there, looking
as grave as the important occasion demanded, and the former at once
proceeded to relate the scene in James' room, his story of the death
of Thomas Bradley, and the subsequent finding of the will.
"This will, which has just been recovered," continued the lawyer,
impressively, "was made subsequent to the one under which Jane
Merrick inherited, and therefore supercedes it. Miss Jane had, as
you perceive, a perfect right to the use of the estate during her
lifetime, but no right whatever to will a penny of it to anyone. Mr.
Bradley having provided for that most fully. For this reason the will
I read to you yesterday is of no effect, and Kenneth Forbes inherits
from his uncle, through his mother, all of the estate."
Blank looks followed Mr. Watson's statement.
"Good-by to my five thousand," said Uncle John, with his chuckling
laugh. "But I'm much obliged to Jane, nevertheless."
"Don't we get anything at all?" asked Beth, with quivering lip.
"No, my dear," answered the lawyer, gently. "Your aunt owned nothing
to give you."
Patsy laughed. She felt wonderfully relieved.
"Wasn't I the grand lady, though, with all the fortune I never had?"
she cried merrily. "But 'twas really fine to be rich for a day, and
toss the money around as if I didn't have to dress ten heads of hair
in ten hours to earn my bread and butter."
Louise smiled.
"It was all a great farce," she said. "I shall take the afternoon
train to the city. What an old fraud our dear Aunt Jane was! And how
foolish of me to return her hundred dollar check."
"I used mine," said Beth, bitterly. "It's all I'll ever get, it
seems." And then the thought of the Professor and his debts overcame
her and she burst, into tears.
The boy sat doubled within his chair, so overcome by the extraordinary
fortune that had overtaken him that he could not speak, nor think even
clearly as yet.
- Page:
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- 138
- 139
- 140
There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
© 2013-2019 FairyTales
Almost all texts on this website are from the Public Domain.