Mrs. Cliff's Yacht

by Frank R. Stockton

As often as once a day the argument came to her that it would be wise for her to give away the bulk of her fortune in charity, and thus rid herself of the necessity for this depressing struggle between her desire to live as she wanted to live, and the obligations to herself under which her fortune placed her; but she could not consent to thus part with her great fortune. She would not turn her back upon her golden opportunities. As soon as she had so determined her life that the assertion of her riches would not interfere with her domestic and social affairs, she would be charitable enough, she would do good works upon a large scale; but she must first determine what she was to do for herself, and so let her charities begin at home.

This undecided state of mind did not have a good effect upon her general appearance, and it was frequently remarked that her health was not what it used to be. Miss Nancy Shott thought there was nothing to wonder at in this. Mrs. Cliff had never been accustomed to spend money, and it was easy to see, from the things she had bought abroad and put into that little house, that she had expended a good deal more than she could afford, and no wonder she was troubled, and no wonder she was looking thin and sick.

Other friends, however, did not entirely agree with Miss Shott. They thought their old friend was entirely too sensible a woman to waste a fortune, whether it had been large or small, which had come to her in so wonderful a manner; and they believed she had money enough to live on very comfortably. If this were not the case, she would never consent to keep a carriage almost for Willy Croup's sole use.

They thought, perhaps, that the example and companionship of Mr. Burke might have had an effect upon her. It was as likely as not that she had borne part of the expense of moving the Barnard house, so that there should be nothing between her and the new building. But this, as they said themselves, was mere surmise. Mr. Burke might fancy large grounds, and he was certainly able to have them if he wanted them. Whatever people said and thought about Mrs. Cliff and her money, it was generally believed that she was in comfortable circumstances. Still, it had to be admitted that she was getting on in years.

Now arose a very important question among the gossips of Plainton: who was to be Mrs. Cliff's heir?

Everybody knew that Mrs. Cliff had but one blood relation living, and that was Willy Croup, and no one who had given any thought whatever to the subject believed that Willy Croup would be her heir. Her husband had some distant relatives, but, as they had had nothing to do with Mrs. Cliff during the days of her adversity, it was not likely that she would now have anything to do with them. Especially, as any money she had to leave did not come through her husband.

But, although the simple-minded Willy Croup was a person who would not know how to take care of money if she had it, and although everybody knew that if Mrs. Cliff made a will she would never think of leaving her property to Willy, still, everybody who thought or talked about the matter saw the appalling fact staring them in their faces—that if Mrs. Cliff died without a will, Willy would inherit her possessions!

The more it was considered, the more did this unpleasant contingency trouble the minds of certain of the female citizens of Plainton. Miss Cushing, the principal dressmaker of the place, was greatly concerned upon this subject, and as her parlor, where she generally sat at her work, was a favorite resort of certain ladies, who sometimes had orders to give, and always had a great deal to say, it was natural that those good women who took most to heart Mrs. Cliff's heirless condition should think of Miss Cushing whenever they were inclined to talk upon the subject.

Miss Shott dropped in there one day with a very doleful countenance. That very morning she had passed Mrs. Cliff's house on the other side of the way, and had seen that poor widow standing in her front yard with the most dejected and miserable countenance she had ever seen on a human being.

"People might talk as much as they pleased about Mrs. Cliff being troubled because she had spent too much money, that all might be, or it might not be, but it was not the reason for that woman looking as if she was just ready to drop into a sick-bed. When people go to the most unhealthy regions in the whole world, and live in holes in the ground like hedgehogs, they cannot expect to come home without seeds of disease in their system, which are bound to come out. And that those seeds were now coming out in Mrs. Cliff no sensible person could look at her and deny."