[CHAPTER VI.]
AN ALARM.
A FEW days later, father suddenly found that all was not quite so sure as he had thought about the five thousand pounds. For the son, who had expected the money, made up his mind to "dispute the will," as it is called. He went to the lawyers, and tried to prove that it was all a mistake, and that the money ought properly to go to him, not us. He wanted to make out that his old father had not been right in the head, at the time that he made the will. If he could show this to be the case, it would of course make all the difference.
I shall never forget seeing father come in, just after hearing that the will was to be disputed. It was Saturday morning, and we were going to have the Jenkinses and the Dickensons and the Raikes' to dinner, and afterwards there was to be an excursion of all of us together to a place called Sunny Point, where we were going to have a sort of picnic tea in some respectable tea-gardens.
There had been quite a struggle, because father was bent on a Sunday dinner to the neighbours, and grannie was set against it. Father was downright angry, and mother cried and fretted because grannie would not give in. Grannie did not say very much, for it wasn't her way to waste words; but she did say she would have nothing to do with the matter, for she couldn't on principle make God's day one of junketing and pleasure. But nothing could be done without her; for mother was a poor cook, and the dinner would just have been a failure altogether, if grannie had not cooked it. Then, when father was vexed and mother upset, grannie quietly asked why it could not be Saturday instead, and offered to do anything they liked for Saturday. And so it was settled.
Grannie and I had been hard at work, for I always helped her, and we had a beautiful dinner nearly ready. Grannie did not like the expense of it all; but having made a stand about the more important matter of Sabbath-breaking, she would not make a stir about this too. So there was to be for once a thorough good turn-out. Grannie had her Sunday dress ready to put on at the last moment, and I had put on mine already, and mother was in the parlour, wearing her new green silk, with bright glass buttons all down the front, and a cap with pink bows. She did look smart, and no mistake; and the blue sofa and chairs and the gay carpet helped to make her still smarter. I peeped in once or twice in the middle of my work, and saw her fidgeting about and making a grand rustling. But somehow it didn't seem like mother. I'd rather have had her as I was used.
Then I was back in the kitchen with grannie: and I was just lifting off a saucepan from the fire when I heard a shriek. It startled me so, that I very nearly dropped the saucepan; and well scalded I should have been if I had.
"Steady, Phœbe," grannie said. "One thing at a time, my dear. Put that down safely. Now go and ask what is the matter. I saw your father come in."
I rushed off to the parlour, and found mother in tears, with her face as red as fire. But father was the worst. I never saw father look so before. The first thought that came into my mind was that a wicked spirit must have got inside him. And though I tried to put the thought away, it came back. Father was talking fast in a loud fierce tone, and it made me tremble. I heard him use a bad word, and that frightened me, for I had never heard him say bad words. Grannie was so particular, and she had brought him up to be the same. He may have been different among other people; but before grannie and with us children, he had always been careful. I suppose he was in such a passion that he hardly knew what he was saying. And I just rushed back to the kitchen, and dragged grannie with me to the parlour.
"What is the matter?" said she, looking at them.