Roberts’ expression grew serious. “Cheerful and morose by turns,” he said. “I never knew how I would find him, of late years—happy as a lark or down in the depths. I attribute it,” he lowered his voice, “to shell-shock.”
“It may be,” agreed Corcoran. “But you recall his mother. Ah, here is Miss Carter,” as Betty appeared, dressed in black, “and Dr. Nash.” The lawyer shook hands with them gravely. “Now, if you will select chairs we will go ahead with the reading of Mr. Abbott’s will. Alan,” as the latter made a belated appearance, “ask Mr. Trenholm to come back.”
Betty had selected a chair near the entrance to the library and out of the direct sunlight. From where she sat she caught a glimpse through the portières of Trenholm standing talking to a man. He advanced with Alan a moment later and entering the sunparlor, closed not only the portières but the folding doors as well.
Corcoran waited until every one was seated, then took a chair himself, and, picking up the will, put on his eyeglasses.
“This,” he said, holding up the document so all might see the seal, “is the last will and testament of Paul Mason Abbott, duly executed in my office on July 23, 1922, six months ago, and witnessed by responsible persons, whose names are attached hereto.” He cleared his throat. “The will reads as follows:
“In the Name of God, Amen. I, Paul Mason Abbott, being of sound mind, and residing at Abbott’s Lodge, Hills Bridge, Prince Georges County, Maryland, do declare this to be my last will and testament.
“I give and bequeath to Alan Mason, my cousin and only near relation, $500 in liberty bonds and the burial ground, known as the Mason Plot, adjacent to my estate of Abbott’s Lodge.
“To my good friend and physician, Doctor William Roberts of Washington, $5,000. To my neighbor, Guy Trenholm of Upper Marlboro, the valuable hunting prints which he so often admired, a sapphire and diamond scarf-pin, and $25,000.
“To Mrs. Nash, for much kindness and hospitality shown me, my silver service, bearing the crest of the Abbotts.
“To Martha and Charles Corbin, for their faithful service to my father, I give the sum of $1,000 each, and permission to live, rent free, in the gardener’s cottage at Abbott’s Lodge, for the rest of their natural lives.