The Late Mrs. Null

by Frank R. Stockton

But there was one thing that did matter: That unprincipled and iniquitous old man Brandon had had his own way at last; and she and her way had been set aside. This was the last of a series of injuries to her and her family with which she charged Mr Brandon and his family; but it was the crowning wrong. The injury itself she did not so much deplore, as that the injurer would profit by it. Arrested in her course of raging passion by a sudden flood of warm and irresistible emotion, she had resigned, as impetuously as she had taken them up, her purposes of vengeance, and consequently, her plans for her nephew and niece. But she was a keen-minded, as well as passionate old woman, and when she had considered the altered state of affairs, she was able to see in it advantages as well as disappointment and defeat. From what she had learned of Lawrence Croft's circumstances and position, and she had made a good many inquiries on this subject of Roberta March, he was certainly a good match for Annie; and, although she hated to have anything to do with Midbranch, it could not be a bad thing for Junius to be master of that large estate, and that Mr Brandon had repeatedly declared he would be, if he married Roberta. Thus, in the midst of these reverses, there was something to comfort her, and reconcile her to them. But there was no balm for the wound caused by Mr Brandon's success and her failure.

With the letter of Junius open in her hand, she sat, for a long time, in bitter meditation. At length a light gradually spread itself over her gloomy countenance. Her eyes sparkled; she sat up straight in her chair, and a broad smile changed the course of the wrinkles on her cheeks. She arose to her feet; she gave her head a quick jerk of affirmation; she clapped one hand upon the other; and she said aloud: "I will bless, not curse!"

And with that she went happy to bed.

CHAPTER XXIX.

On the following Monday, Lawrence announced that his ankle was now quite well enough for him to go to New York, where his affairs required his presence. Neither he, nor the late Mrs Null, regarded this parting with any satisfaction, but their very natural regrets at the necessary termination of these happy autumn days were a good deal tempered by the fact that Lawrence intended to return in a few weeks, and that then the final arrangements would be made for their marriage. It was not easy to decide what these arrangements would be, for in spite of the many wrongnesses of the old lady's head and heart, Annie had conceived a good deal of affection for her aunt, and felt a strong disinclination to abandon her to her lonely life, which would be more lonely than before, now that Junius was to be married. On the other hand, Lawrence, although he had discovered some estimable points in the very peculiar character of Mrs Keswick, had no intention of living in the same house with her. This whole matter, therefore, was left in abeyance until the lovers should meet again, some time in December.

Lawrence and Annie had desired very much that Junius should visit them before Mr Croft's departure for the North, for they both had a high esteem for him, and both felt a desire that he should be as well satisfied with their matrimonial project as they were with his. But they need not have expected him. Junius had conceived a dislike for Mr Croft, which was based in great part upon disapprobation of what he himself had done in connection with that gentleman; and this manner of dislike is not easily set aside. The time would come when he would take Lawrence Croft and Annie by the hand, and honestly congratulate them, but for that time they must wait.

Lawrence departed in the afternoon; and the next day Mrs Keswick set about that general renovation and rearrangement of her establishment which many good housewives consider necessary at certain epochs, such as the departure of guests, the coming in of spring, or the advent of winter. These arrangements occupied two days, and on the evening that they were finished to her satisfaction, the old lady informed her niece, that early the next morning, she was going to start for Midbranch, and that it was possible, nay, quite probable, that she would stay there over a night. "I might go and come back the same day," she said, "but thirty miles a day is too much for Billy, and besides, I am not sure I could get through what I have to do, if I do not stay over. I would take you with me but this is not to be a mere visit; I have important things to attend to, and you would be in the way. You got along so well without me when you first came here that I have no doubt you will do very well for one night. I shall drive myself, and take Plez along with me, and leave Uncle Isham and Letty to take care of you."

Under ordinary circumstances Annie would have been delighted to go to Midbranch, a place she had never seen, and of which she had heard so much, but she had no present desire to see Roberta March, and said so; further remarking that she was very willing to stay by herself for a night. She hoped much that her aunt would proceed with the conversation, and tell her why she had determined upon such an extraordinary thing as a visit to Midbranch; where she knew the old lady had not been for many, many years. But Mrs Keswick had nothing further to say upon this subject, and began to talk of other matters.

After a very early breakfast next morning, Mrs Keswick set out upon her journey, driving the sorrel horse with much steadiness, intermingled with severity whenever he allowed himself to drop out of his usual jogging pace. Plez sat in the back part of the spring-wagon, and whenever the old lady saw an unusually large stone lying in the track of the road, she would stop, and make him get out and throw it to one side.

"I believe," she said, on one of these occasions, "that a thousand men in buggies might pass along this road thrice a day for a year, and never think of stopping to throw that rock out of the way of people's wheels. They would steer around it every time, or bump over it, but such a thing as moving it would never enter their heads."