Lily stared down at the words.
“Who is Arnold Bowering?” asked Aunt Cosy.
“He is our friend, as well as Cousin Rosa’s solicitor. I’ve known him all my life,” answered Lily slowly.
“You do not look particularly excited,” said the Countess. “I suppose there is no doubt about your heritage? I do not quite understand the term, ‘residuary legatee.’ Can that mean that Miss Rosa only left you what will be left after some other person has been paid?”
The words can hardly be said to have penetrated Lily’s brain, so, “I really don’t know,” she answered vaguely. “To tell you the truth, Aunt Cosy, I don’t care much!”
There had come over her a feeling of keen regret that she had not gone to see Cousin Rosa before leaving England. There had been some talk of her doing so, but the old lady had not seemed really anxious to see her. Lily wondered if she ought to have told Angus about Miss Rosa? Somehow she was glad she had said nothing about it. There would be plenty of time to tell him when next they met—if they had nothing more entrancing, more exciting to talk about——
“We will wait till this Mr. Bowering’s letter comes, and we will then judge whether it is necessary or not for you to procure mourning,” said the Countess thoughtfully.
Lily felt a slight thrill of disgust run through her. “I’m already in mourning,” she said a little coldly, “for Aunt Emmeline.”
“Yes, but if you’ve been left a fortune by this old lady, then surely you should wear all black for at least a month?” observed Aunt Cosy reprovingly. “I should have thought, Lily, that your own good heart would have told you that.”
Poor Lily! It was with difficulty that she prevented herself from bursting out laughing. What an unconscious hypocrite Aunt Cosy was!