There was a hush of expectancy as Judge Hoyt produced and read aloud the document.
As has already been disclosed there was a bequest of fifty thousand dollars to Kane Landon. The house and furniture were given unreservedly to Mrs. Eleanor Black, with fifty thousand dollars in addition. There were bequests of one thousand dollars each to Miss Wilkinson and to Terence McGuire, both favorites with their employer. Also a similar sum to Stryker, the butler, and various smaller sums to other servants and to a few charities.
And then came the disposition of the residuary fortune, which, it was rumored, ran well up into the millions.
In the words of the will it was set forth that all moneys and properties, not otherwise designated, were bequeathed to Avice Trowbridge, on the conditions that “she shall keep my collection of Natural History Specimens intact, and, within a year duly present it to some worthy museum; and herself become the wife of Leslie Hoyt. Also, she must add to said collection not less than twenty-five specimens of certain value every year. If these conditions are not fulfilled, my niece, Avice, inherits but fifty thousand dollars of my fortune, and the residue must form a trust fund, under the supervision of Leslie Hoyt, to be used to found and endow a museum of Natural History.”
With the exception of Hoyt and Avice, every one present looked astounded at the terms of the will. And yet it was not surprising that Mr. Trowbridge desired the union of his niece and his friend. Besides being the lawyer of the dead man, Hoyt had been his intimate friend and companion for years, and Hoyt’s regard for Avice was no secret. Moreover, the girl had always looked on the lawyer with friendly eyes, and it had been assumed by many that they were destined for each other. To be sure, Avice was only twenty, and Leslie Hoyt was forty-five. But he was a man who seemed ten years younger than he was, and Avice was mature for her years. So, while it was a surprise that their union had been made a condition of the bequest, it was not thought by any one that this fact would be objectionable to either of the two concerned.
But Avice looked grave, and an obstinate expression came into her eyes. Hoyt saw this, and smiled a little as he remembered her aversion to being made to do a thing, even though she fully intended to do it. It was the girl’s nature to chafe at authority, and Hoyt well knew he would have to give her free rein in many matters. Of course, having drawn up the will, he had known of this condition, but this was the first time he had had opportunity to note how it affected Avice. And it was quite plain that she was displeased.
“Then,” she burst out, “does my inheritance depend on my marriage to Judge Hoyt?”
“Yes,” answered Hoyt, himself, smiling at her.
“Then I refuse it! I will not be told whom I shall marry!”
“Let us not discuss that now,” said Hoyt, gently; “there is time enough for you to decide that later.”