And it had been she who had been the medium of all arrangements with old Mr. Pauncey, who had been most attentive in coming over himself at frequent intervals to explain any little matter that wanted explanation, and had never changed an investment for them without explaining exactly why he thought it ought to be changed, and, what was perhaps more important still, giving her the exact alteration that would be made in the figures, so that she should have no further trouble with her accounts than was necessary.
After a bit it was young Mr. Pauncey who had attended to their affairs, and she remembered very well that on the occasion of his first visit her sister Ellen had considered it advisable to sit in the room while he disclosed the business upon which he had come over.
"He is a very well-behaved young man, my dear," Miss Clinton had said, "although perhaps not the equal of his father, who is one of nature's gentlemen. But in case he should presume——"
Young Mr. Pauncey never had presumed, and he looked after Aunt Laura's property to this day, and would continue to "attend on her" until her death, if he survived her, although he had long since devised all his other professional cases to his son and grandson. She relied greatly on young Mr. Pauncey's advice, and had long since forgiven him for the slight disturbance he had once made in objecting to carry out certain of their decisions. It had been necessary for Aunt Anne, upon whom it had always devolved to say the word that would put people in their places when that word had to be said, to end the discussion with a speech that shook a little in the middle: "Mr. Pauncey, we have asked you to come here to take our instructions. It will save time if you will kindly write them down at once."
How splendid dear Anne had been on that occasion—quite polite, but quite firm! And young Mr. Pauncey, it had afterwards been agreed, had behaved admirably too. With a courteous smile he had said, "Very well, ladies, I will say no more," and had then helped them most lucidly to put their decision into proper form, and had since admitted handsomely that their carefully considered plan had worked well, adding that he had felt himself obliged to criticise it, entirely in their own interest.
A trust had been formed with young Mr. Pauncey, in whom, as they assured him, they had complete confidence, as sole trustee. The six separate estates were pooled and the income from the whole capital could be drawn on by the cheque of any of the six beneficiaries. The disadvantage of this scheme, as young Mr. Pauncey had ventured to point out at the time, was that if any one of them quarrelled with the other five, or got married, it was in her power to cause them considerable inconvenience by appropriating more than her share of the income, or, if she wrote her cheques at the right moment, the whole of it. It was at this point that Aunt Anne had interposed with her famous speech, and young Mr. Pauncey had ceased to make objections, probably consoling himself with the reflection that, as trustee, he could put an end to the inconvenience at any time that it should arise.
But the sisters had never quarrelled and none of them had married, and young Mr. Pauncey at the age of seventy-five was obliged to admit to himself that the most highly irregular arrangement he had ever legalised had also turned out to have worked with the least possible amount of friction. No further adjustments had had to be made as one sister after the other had died; none of them had made a will or had needed to; and Aunt Laura, the last survivor, was now in automatic possession of the whole, as all the sisters had wished that the last survivor should be. "We are agreed," Aunt Ellen had said in conclave, "that the bulk of the money shall go back to dear Edward, or to his children if he marries and has any; let the last of us who is left alive carry out our joint wishes without being tied up by promises or papers. That to my mind is the ideal arrangement. Circumstances may arise which we cannot now foresee. Let the one of us who is spared longest have power to deal with them, under the kind advice of young Mr. Pauncey, if he also is spared so long, and not be hampered by what is called red tape."
And so the passing away of one sister after another had not been harassed by questions of property, and it was not until Aunt Ellen the eldest and Aunt Laura the youngest had been left alone together that any discussion at all had arisen as to the disposal of the money which they shared. They had talked of it together, and had called young Mr. Pauncey into advice.
Young Mr. Pauncey, now a little deaf and a little feeble in body, though not in brain, and as courteous and helpful as ever, had advised that the money should be equally divided amongst the Squire's younger children. "There are six of them," he had said very happily, "just as there were six of you ladies. Mr. Clinton would probably dispose of it in that way if you were to leave it to him, and I shall not be betraying confidence if I say that Captain Clinton is already very handsomely provided for."
So it had been agreed upon provisionally, but the question of making a will had been left in abeyance, and later on it had been thought that Cicely might possibly have rather more than the others, because Jim was not too well off, owing to those wicked death duties, and later still that Dick, perhaps, ought to have some, because they were not supposed to know what would be done for him, and they would not like him to feel himself left out in the cold; and by and by that it might be better, after all, to ask Edward to decide the matter himself. But nothing had been done. Aunt Ellen had died, and Aunt Laura had postponed coming to a decision at all for two years past, thinking over the matter occasionally, but never finding herself, as she expressed it, "guided."