“Come in, Mr. Fessenden,” said Mrs. Markham, as he was about to withdraw. “I should be glad of your advice. Ought I to give over the reins of government at once to Miss Morton?”
“Why not?” interrupted Miss Morton, herself. “The house is mine; why should I not be mistress here?”
Fessenden repressed a smile. It seemed to him absurd that these two middle-aged women should discuss an issue of this sort with such precipitancy.
“It seems to me a matter of good taste,” he replied. “The house, Miss Morton, is legally yours, but as its mistress, I think you’d show a more gracious manner if you would wait for a time before making any changes in the domestic arrangements.”
Apparently undesirous of pursuing the gracious course he recommended, Miss Morton rose abruptly and flounced out of the room.
“Now she’s annoyed again,” observed Mrs. Markham placidly. “The least little thing sets her off.”
“If not intrusive, Mrs. Markham, won’t you tell me how it comes about that Miss Morton inherits this beautiful house? Is she a relative of the Van Normans?”
“Not a bit of it. She was Richard Van Norman’s sweetheart, years and years and years ago. They had a falling-out, and neither of them ever married. Of course he didn’t leave her any of his fortune. But only a short time ago, long after her uncle’s death, Madeleine found out about it from some old letters. She determined then to hunt up this Miss Morton, and she did so, and they had quite a correspondence. She came here for the wedding, and Madeleine intended she should make a visit, and intended to give her a present of money when she went away. In the meantime Madeleine had made her will, though I didn’t know this until to-day, leaving the place and all her own money to Miss Morton. I’m not surprised at this, for Tom Willard has plenty, and as there was no other heir, I know Madeleine felt that part of her uncle’s fortune ought to be used to benefit the woman he had loved in his youth.”
“That explains Miss Morton, then,” said Fessenden. “But what a peculiar woman she is!”
“Yes, she is,” agreed Mrs. Markham, in her serene way. “But I’m used to queer people. Richard Van Norman used to give way to the most violent bursts of temper I ever saw. Maddy and Tom are just like him. They would both fly into furious rages, though I must say they didn’t do it often, and never unless for some deep reason.”