All the old prayers, the immemorial pleadings. Love the Lord only, and His service. Dedicate this wealth to Him. Lay it not up where moth and rust do corrupt. His love is the only true riches. There is only His love, my dearie....
Grandmother dear! Noblest of all the Saints, now high among the Saints in Heaven. How much? I wondered.
I found a little summary made by the lawyer on half a sheet of notepaper, which spared my wading through the uncommaed intricacies of the Will itself.
Briefly: there was £400 for Grandmother, £200 for Aunt Jael, £100 each for Aunt Martha, Albert, and certain charities. All the rest—some £10,000, or about £500 a year—was left to me: me, Mary.
At first I could only think in exultant exclamation marks. Ten thousand Pounds! Five-hun-dred-pounds-a-year! (Sonorously mouthed.) Wealth, freedom, power!
I was my own mistress now. I could do any defiance, yet have my bread. Aunt Jael, urged the feeble voice of some-far-away Self. "Who is Aunt Jael?" asked Villebecq Mary: "Ah yes, to be sure, I remember." "I pay for the Child's music"—cry that two years ago could have rallied me to any revenge—"I" now stifled with a bland Pourquoi? How silly it seemed, how silly Revenge always is.
No, I would buy a house of my own—the ambition which life in the Château, and other dreamings, had made my chief one now—and I would live there with Robbie for ever. The hunger, the longing possessed me more mournfully, more passionately than for long months. I flung myself on the bed and covered the pillow with kisses....
I would help the Saints, play Lady Bountiful to the Lord, send much money for the heathen, succour more than one needy labourer in the Lord's vineyard abroad. "Sops," sneered Conscience. "Go and work in the Lord's vineyard yourself. All that thou hast—"
How furious Uncle Simeon would be, I reflected pleasurably. The Will provided that if I died all my share was to go (after use by Grandmother during the remainder of her lifetime) to Aunt Martha and Albert. So my life, which he loathed, was all that stood between Simeon Greeber and the money that he so much loved. Unkindest cut: I had plentiful cuts to repay. And for him alone, of Child Mary's enemies my present self nourished hatred: for I knew he was an enemy still.