Godfrey returned home on the day after his father's death. He had never witnessed death before, and it frightened him, for the time, into propriety. He exhibited none of the stormy and impetuous grief which a warm-hearted and affectionate boy would have been likely to exhibit. It was not in his nature.
When he and his mother were left alone, he showed his resemblance to her, by asking:
"Do you know how much property father left?"
"I don't know. He never told me about his affairs as he ought. I think he must have left near a hundred thousand dollars."
Godfrey's eyes sparkled.
"That's a pile of money," he said. "It goes to me, don't it?"
"To us," said Mrs. Preston.
"A woman doesn't need so much money as a man," said Godfrey, selfishly.
"You are not a man yet," said his mother, dryly. "Your father may have left a will. In that case, he may have left a part of his property to others."
"Do you think he has?" inquired Godfrey, in alarm.