"Not especially," replied Mrs. Aldred. "I once heard her say she would not have much to leave behind. The money was from her husband, and if she chose to live extravagantly it was no one's affairs."
"I am glad you take it philosophically," and he gave a faint smile. "When she was about sixty-five she put nearly all her money in an annuity so she would have no further care. She told me that she had no near relatives."
"That was true enough."
"So she lived very handsomely at times, at others quite plainly. She placed in my hands a sum amply sufficient for her burial, which has never been disturbed. I collected and paid over her annuity. There may be a few thousands beside. The income, you know, stopped with her death. So there will be nothing for the heirs."
"I for one shall not complain. She paid generously for her protégé, six months in advance. She sent for her and I was to take her over with me; calling on you in all business matters."
"Yes, she notified me. It was Mrs. Van Dorn's intention to keep this young girl with her the rest of her life. Her last letter to me was as buoyant as that of any young person. She was certainly wonderful—eighty-six in March. It seemed to me as if she might have lived to be a hundred. I am afraid the talk of that man Fenton did not do her any good."
"It is a great shock. I can hardly believe it."
"What friends has this girl, if any?"
"Oh, some relatives at a small town in a neighboring State, an uncle who has cared for her. She is a bright, ambitious girl, and I do regret the death for her sake. I am glad there is someone she can turn to, but I think she has the courage to work her way up, with a helping hand now and then."
"And you do not know about this Mr. Fenton?"