The funeral took place in strict accordance with directions in the old lady’s will, at a distant cemetery. I had hoped to be able to keep Maimie from attending it, and to remain behind with her for a private interview. But Churton was bent upon Maimie’s presence in the cemetery, and she made no effort to resist his wish, or to farther mine. Did she really not care for being with me, much as I was longing to have her for awhile to myself? I grew perplexed, and even a little jealous. However, as Maimie went, I went also. And the quiet solemn service seemed to help and calm me,—only Churton’s loud voice grated on my ears.
On our return we expected the reading of the will to take place immediately. But Churton insisted on luncheon first. He overruled everybody’s wishes, and had things his own way.
The lawyer was an old friend of Mrs. Briscoe, and we had known him many years—a silent grey-haired man. When at length luncheon was over, and we were all gathered together in the drawing-room, he put on his spectacles, made one or two introductory remarks, and then slowly read the will aloud.
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
THE READING OF THE WILL.
THE first part of the will was dated a few years back,—within a year of Uncle Briscoe’s death. “The Gables,” and all furniture in the house, and all money in the funds, bringing in nearly seven hundred pounds yearly, were left to my husband, with only a few small legacies to friends taken out.
Then came a codicil, dated just three months before Mrs. Briscoe’s death, undoing the whole of this, and leaving to Churton house, furniture, money,—all, with the exception of the few legacies I have mentioned, and five hundred pounds to Robert.
Churton showed extreme satisfaction. He tried hard to seem astonished, and to accept his good fortune as if it were unexpected, but without much success. My husband sat with bent head, making no remark. I do not doubt that it was to him, as to me, a moment of bitter disappointment.
Maimie raised her eyes, and looked earnestly at us all round, not seemingly either grieved or gratified, but with a certain calm content. I wondered at her, and my heart beat with something like anger. Was she glad to step in and rob us of our inheritance? For unless Churton should marry again, Maimie might reasonably expect that one day all this would pass to her.
It is strange how quickly thoughts can flash through the mind. I suppose I felt all that I have just written, and more besides, in the space of two or three seconds. The lawyer’s pause could hardly have lasted longer.