CHAPTER III.
"I have brought you the statement of the property, Mrs. Kinloch," said Mr. Clamp. "It is merely a legal form, embracing the items which you gave to me; it must be returned at the next Probate term."
Mrs. Kinloch took the paper and glanced over it.
"This statement must be sworn to, Mrs. Kinloch."
"By you?"
"We are joined in the administration, and both must swear to it."
There was a pause. Mrs. Kinloch, resting her hands on her knee, tossed the hem of her dress with her foot, as though meditating.
"I shall of course readily make oath to the schedule," he continued,—"at least, after you have done so; for I have no personal knowledge of the effects of the deceased."
His manner was decorous, but he regarded her keenly. She changed the subject.
"People seem to think I have a mint in the house; and such bills as come in! Sawin, the cabinet-maker, has sent his to-day, as soon as my husband is fairly under ground: forty dollars for a cherry coffin, which he made in one day. Cleaver, the butcher, too, has sent a bill running back for five years or more. Now I know that Mr. Kinloch never had an ounce of meat from him that he didn't pay for. If they all go on in this way, I sha'n't have a cent left. Everybody tries to cheat the widow"——
"And orphan," interposed Mr. Clamp.
She looked at him quietly; but he was imperturbable.
"We must begin to collect what is due," she continued.
"Did you refer to the notes from Ploughman?" asked Mr. Clamp. "He is perfectly good; and he will pay the interest till we want to use the money."
"I wasn't thinking of Ploughman," she replied, "but of Mark Davenport, Uncle Ralph Hardwick's nephew. They say he is a teacher in one of the fashionable schools in New York,—and he must be able to pay, if he's ever going to."
"Well, when he comes on here, I will present the notes."
"But I don't intend to wait till he comes; can't you send the demands to a lawyer where he is?"
"Certainly, if you wish it; but that course will necessarily be attended with some expense."
"I choose to have it done," said Mrs. Kinloch, decisively. "Mildred, who has always been foolishly partial to the young upstart, insists that her father intended to give up the notes to Mark, and she thinks that was what he wanted to send for Uncle Ralph about, just before he died. I don't believe it, and I don't intend to fling away my money upon such folks."
"You are quite right, ma'am," said the lawyer. "The inconsiderate generosity of school-children would be a poor basis for the transactions of business."
"And besides," continued Mrs. Kinloch, "I want the young man to remember the blacksmith's shop that he came from, and get over his ridiculous notion of looking up to our family."
"Oh ho!" said Mr. Clamp, "that is it? Well, you are a sagacious woman,"— looking at her with unfeigned admiration.
"I can see through a millstone, when there is a hole in it," said Mrs.
Kinloch. "And I mean to stop this nonsense."
"To be sure,—it would be a very unequal match in every way. Besides, I'm told that he isn't well-grounded in doctrine. He even goes to Brooklyn to hear Torchlight preach." And Mr. Clamp rolled up his eyes, interlocking his fingers, as he was wont when at church-meeting he rose to exhort.
"I don't pretend to be a judge of doctrine, further than the catechism goes," said the widow; "but Mr. Rook says that Torchlight is a dangerous man, and will lead the churches off into infidelity."
"Yes, Mrs. Kinloch, the free-thinking of this age is the fruitful parent of all evil,—of Mormonism, Unitarianism, Spiritualism, and of all those forms of error which seek to overthrow"——
There was a crash in the china-closet. Mrs. Kinloch went to the door, and leading out Lucy Ransom, the maid, by the ear, exclaimed, "You hussy, what were you there for? I'll teach you to be listening about in closets," (giving the ear a fresh tweak,) "you eavesdropper!"
"Quit!" cried Lucy. "I didn't mean to listen. I was there rubbin' the silver 'fore you come. Then I didn't wanter come out, for I was afeard."
"What made the smash, then?" demanded Mrs. Kinloch.
"I was settin' things on the top shelf, and the chair tipped over."
"Don't make it worse by fibbing! If that was so, how came the chair to tip the way it did? You were trying to peep over the door. Go to the kitchen!"
Lucy went out with fallen plumes. Mr. Clamp took his hat to go also.
"Don't go till I get you the notes," said Mrs. Kinloch.
As she brought them, he said, "I will send these by the next mail, with instructions to collect."
While his hand was on the latch, she spoke again:—
"Mr. Clamp, did you ever look over the deed of the land we own about the dam where the mill stands?"
"No, ma'am, I have never seen it."
"I wish you would have the land surveyed according to this title," she said. "Quite privately, you know. Just have the line run, and let me know about it. Perhaps it will be as well to send over to Riverbank and get Gunter to do it; he will keep quiet about it."
Mr. Clamp stood still a moment. Here was a woman whom he was expecting to lead like a child, but who on the other hand had fairly bridled and saddled him, so that he was driven he knew not whither.
"Why do you propose this, may I ask, Mrs. Kinloch?"
"Oh, I have heard," she replied, carelessly, "that there was some error in the surveys. Mr. Kinloch often talked of having it corrected, but, like most men, put it off. Now, as we may sell the property, we shall want to know what we have got."
"Certainly, Mrs. Kinloch, I will follow your prudent suggestions,"—adding to himself, as he walked away, "I shall have to be tolerably shrewd to get ahead of that woman. I wonder what she is driving at."