It was true Patty had threatened to send her back to Weston to-morrow, but Eva was not sure that she would do it.
“Gran’ther will take my part—if he lives! Yet, oh, how ill he looks! What if he should die while they are keeping me from him? I will not bear it!” she sobbed, getting up and rattling the door, and screaming at the top of her voice when she found it would not yield to her efforts.
She thought that her grandfather might hear her, and demand her release; but no one came near. They could all hear her plainly enough, but they made capital of it to declare that she was as crazy as bedlam, and Patty quickly sent off a telegram to the insane asylum, asking the superintendent to send for her immediately, as she was violent, and in danger of injuring herself or others.
After that, as they were tired and sleepy, all went to bed, and left Grandfather Groves to his raving, that grew worse, because Eva’s long-continued screams and the rattling of her doorknob blended in with his delirious fancies.
They would not call a doctor, as Eva had begged them—no, indeed! Physics couldn’t help him how, and his bedridden life was a weariness even to himself. Let him slip away as soon as nature willed to death.
That was what they frankly said to each other without pretense, for his will was made, and he had struck oil, so they had no further use for him.
Just as long as he lived they must vegetate here at Stony Ledge, for he had sternly refused to move to Clarksburg when they struck oil.
“I was born at Stony Ledge, and, please Heaven, I’ll die here!” he answered to all their entreaties, and they knew they must abide by his decision. They could not remove him by force.
In their angry disappointment they wished him dead, and did not want a doctor to hinder him even an hour from his haste to the grave.
Terribly frightened lest he should recover sense enough to send for some one to change his will, giving Eva a part of his good fortune, they locked him in as they had done little Eva, and left him there till morning.