“Father tell me! O no. Aunt Briscoe took a fancy to me the first day, and she very soon began letting out things when we were alone. She said my father would be angry if he knew, and I must not repeat a word. I found she had a fancy that Uncle Robert had been rude and neglectful to her; so the first thing I had to do was to explain that away. And then she told me she had altered her will,—by my father’s advice. I had to be careful in what I said, but it very soon seemed to dawn upon her that she had been deceived, and that she was wronging Uncle Robert. She wrote herself to Mr. Wilson about the change in the will, and he was so quick,—much quicker than lawyers are generally. I do think he was very glad for Uncle Robert.”
“Did it never occur to you,” I asked, “that if all had gone to your stepfather, it might have been yours some day?”
“Aunt Marion!—what sort of a creature do you think me?” she cried.
“At all events, it will be Jack’s,” I said.
She blushed vividly, but said, “I am glad of the legacy to Jack. Aunt Briscoe did not tell me of that. When will Jack come here?”
“I think you will come back to us first,” I said, “until we can all be here together. I suppose it will be some little time before we can enter into possession.”
Then Maimie told me more about Aunt Briscoe; how, under failing strength, she had seemed to dread the future, and had craved comfort, not knowing where to turn.
“She spoke of her husband as such a good man, Aunt Marion, and said she was afraid she had never cared much for the things he loved best. And I do think I was a little help to her. At first she was shy of seeing a clergyman. I could not get her to do it, till a few days before her death. But she let me read and talk and sing hymns to her. 'Just as I am,’ was her great favourite; and at last she almost knew it by heart. I do think there was a real change in her. And she seemed so anxious to do rightly about her money.”
“I wonder she never sent for my husband.”
“She did not dare, Aunt Marion. I think she was too weak and ill to face my father’s anger. She told me again and again to give you her love 'by-and-by.’ And I think she had a feeling that it would not be long.”