“Sit down, sir,” said mother, a little tremulously, leading the way into the sitting-room. “I—I fear,” she added, as she sat down opposite him, “that I have been neglectful of her. Oh, I am so sorry! I had always hoped to see her again and tell her— If she had only sent me word that she was ill!”
“She wasn’t ill,” broke in Mr. Chester. “Not ill, at least, in the sense of being bed-fast. She was in her usual health, so far as any of her neighbours knew. She was not very intimate with any of them, and lived a rather secluded life. She owned a great, old-fashioned house, you know, with large grounds surrounding it, and she lived there with two old servants, a man who attended to the outdoor work, and his wife, who acted as cook and house-servant. Three days ago, the latter found her mistress dead in bed. She was smiling, and had evidently passed away peacefully in her sleep.”
“But three days ago!” cried mother. “Why was I not told at once?”
“I was simply carrying out her commands, Mrs. Truman. She was a very peculiar woman, as you doubtless know.”
“Yes,” mother agreed. “But she had no other relatives, and I should have been there.”
“I know you should,” assented Mr. Chester, visibly ill at ease. “But I really had no option in the matter. Let me explain. My place happens to adjoin Mrs. Nelson’s, and so we got to know each other, though not nearly so well as neighbours usually do. I am a lawyer by profession, and she entrusted a few of her business affairs to my hands—among other things, the making of her will. She enjoined me strictly that under no circumstances were you to be informed of her death until after the funeral—”
“After the funeral!” repeated mother, mechanically.
“Which took place yesterday.”
“Oh, this is worse than I thought!” said mother, miserably. “I should have been there, Mr. Chester! She was still angry with me, then. We—we had a disagreement many years ago; but I had hoped she had long since forgotten it.”
“My dear Mrs. Truman,” protested Mr. Chester, quickly, “please put that thought out of your mind. Mrs. Nelson was not in the least angry with you—as you will see. Her not desiring you at her funeral was simply another of her peculiarities. She was very old, you know,” he went on, hesitatingly, as though uncertain how much he should say, “and in her last years took up some queer beliefs. I don’t know just what they were, but I do know that she belonged to no church, and that she also forbade that any minister should be present at her funeral.”