“Entailed, Miss Smiley, entailed,” he said with what he intended to be a retrospective and thoughtful air. To his client it seemed merely absent-minded.
“Please put your mind on this, Judge Hollaby!” she commanded in a tone that reminded the lawyer of several schoolma’ams rolled into one. “I ask you to use plain words and you start off by using a word like ‘entailed’! Explain yourself. What is entail?”
The Judge was very uncomfortable. He made the absurd mistake of trying to impress his visitor.
“Under entail,” he began to explain, “an estate is so bequeathed that the inheritors cannot bequeath it at their pleasure; the fee is abridged and curtailed——”
An impatient sound escaped Miss Smiley.
“Curtail, if you please,” she said, “your fine-sounding description. As I understand the matter, my aunt left me all her property in and for my lifetime. I am to have the free use of it. I can throw it all in the bay if I like——”
“Except the real estate,” interjected the Judge.
“I daresay I could dam Hawkins creek and flood that,” retorted Keturah, then went on: “I can use every cent of it, spend it, waste it; and if there is nothing left, no one will inherit it.”
“Naturally not,” assented Judge Hollaby.
“Unnaturally,” said his client, sharply. “It would be an unnatural thing to do.”