"Mrs. Darby has made a will, presumably in favor of her niece, Geraldine Swaim—a will subject to replacement by any number of wills creating other beneficiaries. In any event, Mrs. Darby proposes to have a voice in the final disposition of her property."
Mrs. Darby nodded emphatically. "I certainly do."
Eugene smiled approval of such good judgment. "You are right, Mrs. Darby. What is your own you should control, always. But, frankly, Aunt Jerry, it is Geraldine Swaim herself who is my fortune—if I can ever acquire it."
"You don't object to her prospects, I hope," Mrs. Darby interrupted, with a twinkle in her eye.
"I couldn't, for her sake. And I am artistic enough to love the charm of an estate like this; and sensible enough, maybe, to appreciate the influence and opportunity that are afforded by the other financial assets of the Darby possessions. I'll do all in my power to bring Jerry back to a life of ease and absence of all anxiety and responsibility. Shall I go out to Kansas after her?"
An uncomfortable feeling about that York Macpherson had begun now to pull hard upon Eugene's complacent assurance, although he had rebelled a few minutes ago at the thought of going anywhere after Jerry.
"Never," Mrs. Darby responded. "It would just give her another chance for adventure and seem to acknowledge that we couldn't do without her."
In truth, Mrs. Darby was shrewd enough to know that with Eugene on the ground she could not count on York Macpherson as her ally. York would naturally champion Jerry's cause, and she knew that Eugene Wellington would be no match for the diplomatic man of affairs whom she had known intimately from his childhood.
"Aunt Jerry, how much do you know of the value of this Swaim estate?" Eugene asked, suddenly.
"Very little. Cornelius told me that he had a full account of it. That was on the very day he was—he passed away. The papers, except the one Jerry found here the day after the funeral, have all been mislaid."