"I suppose the place belongs to Aunt Sophy now, and in that case it will come to me," said Percy sternly.

"Grab it all, old chap!" exclaimed George mockingly.

"It's like this," said Percy sharply. "I'm one of the trustees of the Yard estate, and Hunter is the other. I dare say you have heard the aunts mention Hunter; he's a partner in Martin and Cross, the family solicitors. I needn't go into the details of Mr. Yard's will, but of course you know Aunt Maria enjoyed only a life interest in her share.

Aunt Sophy now inherits the lot, but she can't touch the capital, all of which comes to me at her death. That's the position."

"And here's mine! Oblige me by running your eye over this, my dear chap," invited George, producing his aunt's will.

Percy did so, frowning considerably, and when he had finished tried to mutter a few words of congratulation.

"Not so bad," chuckled George. "The whole place is mine, and everything in it. Aunt Sophy is now my tenant."

"There's no mention of the house," objected Percy.

"Read this--'all I die possessed of.' The property belonged to aunt; left her by my uncle."

"But she bought the ground and built the house," cried Percy.

"Out of income," said the triumphant George.

"I suppose you'll be sending this to Martin and Cross?"

"It goes this evening by registered post. Aunt Sophy won't leave Highfield. She will be enjoying the use of my house and my furniture. In return she can give me board and pocket-money. Quite a decent scheme, old chap. Everybody satisfied! No grumblers!"

"I didn't know anything about this will," muttered Percy.

"You can't object to my staying here now--you can't order me out, my dear old chap. Nice little property, isn't it?" cried George riotously.

Percy had not much more to say, especially as he seemed in a hurry to catch a train which would carry him towards London and Mr. Hunter's office. Immediately he had departed, Kezia approached and asked, "Can I speak to you vor a minute, please?"

"Certainly," replied the prosperous George, following her into the dining room, where Bessie towered beside the table upon which reposed the sandalwood box taken from the late mistress's bedroom. George could not help noticing what a quant.i.ty of waste paper appeared to be lying about.

"This wur lying on the top," explained Kezia, presenting a slip upon which was written in his late aunt's handwriting, "This box is the property of Kezia, who has served me faithfully since her childhood."

"I ha' been wi' her forty years, and I don't know how I shall get along without her. I feels as though she can't be gone vor ever, and will soon be coming back again maybe," Kezia continued.

"She knows what be going on. She can see me, and you, and Mr. George, and she can tell what he'm thinking of," added Bessie.

"Went just like the Captain, all to once and no fuss. She said to me many a time, 'I wants to go like him, Kezia, nice and quick.' So she did, poor dear! Lay down, and went to sleep, and never woke up again this side Jordan. And the last thing she said wur, 'Kezia, I ain't felt so well as I be feeling now vor I can't tell ye how long.'"

"They'm always like that," said Bessie.

"What are all these papers?" asked George.

"These be mine," said Kezia, taking one bundle. "Those belong to Bess.

This one is vor Miss Sophy. And this one is vor Nellie."

"Wasn't there one vor Mr. Percy?" inquired Bessie.

"Here's something on the floor," said George. He picked up the sc.r.a.p of paper and read, "I should like Percy to have something to remember me by. He can take the pair of silver candlesticks given me by his mother as a wedding present."

"He can't have them," said Bessie, looking across at Kezia.

"No, that he can't," said Kezia, staring rather uneasily at Bessie.

"What are all these papers?" George demanded, feeling in his pocket, to make sure that the will was safe.

"Will ye please to read 'em?" replied Kezia, extending her bundle.

George opened the first and read, "I want Kezia to have all the furniture in her bedroom, also six dining room chairs, my sofa, and the largest bookcase." The second paper included, for Kezia's benefit, much of the furniture in the parlour, together with "the pair of silver candlesticks given me by Louisa as a wedding present." The third paper mentioned most of the articles in Mrs. Drake's bedroom, with the grandfather clock, the Chinese vases, "and anything else Mr. George does not want." And so the lists ran on, until Kezia had been left everything in the house several times over.

Then Bessie proffered her bundle with a sorrowful smile. First of all she was to have the bed she had once slept on, then all the furniture in her bedroom, much of that in the parlour, half of that in the dining room, with "the pair of silver candlesticks given me by Louisa as a wedding present," most of the ornaments including the Chinese vases, the Egyptian mummy, and "any other little thing Mr. George does not care about."

Nellie was to have the round table in the parlour, which had been already bestowed upon both Kezia and Bessie. While Sophy was requested to take the musical box and "the pair of silver candlesticks given me as a wedding present by Louisa."

"This is a nice business!" George muttered.

"Seems to be rather a lot of mixing up, don't it!" said Bessie.

"I can see what has happened," George continued. "Poor old aunt never had much of a memory, and, when she put away one of these papers in the box, she forgot about the others. Some of them were written when I was a child--the ink is beginning to fade--while others are quite recent."

"She would write 'em in the evening. I've seen her doing it. And when she went into her bedroom, she would put it into the box quick and lock it up. She wouldn't let no one touch that box," said Kezia.

"You see she wanted to leave you something to remember her by, and she never looked into the box to see what she had written."

"I suppose we mustn't take the things now?" asked Bessie hurriedly.

"Nothing wur to be touched, Bess, while Miss Sophy lived. Even Mr.

George warn't to touch anything," said Kezia with unnecessary irony; since, according to these sc.r.a.ps of paper, George had nothing to take.

"I have the will which was made soon after I came to live with my uncle and aunt. There is no mention of Miss Yard," said George firmly.

"Mrs. Drake wrote a paper and gave it to Miss Sophy. And Miss Sophy wrote a paper and gave it to Mrs. Drake. Here it is!" exclaimed Kezia, diving to the bottom of the box, which contained brooches and other trinkets dropped in from time to time. "You see, Mr. George,' If I die before Maria, all my furniture is to belong to her.' And 'tis signed Sophy Yard."

"What did my aunt write on her paper?" cried George, as a horrible thought flashed across his mind.

"Just the same. If she died avore Miss Sophy, everything she possessed wur to belong to her."

"And she has died before Aunt Sophy after all," George muttered.

"Why, so she has! I never thought of that avore," said Bessie.

George refused to discuss the matter further, pointing out that nothing could be done during Miss Yard's lifetime, although he had no intention of remaining inactive until then. Escaping into a quiet place, he sought to find a solution of the problem thus suddenly presented to him. By a properly attested will the entire furniture of Windward House had been left to him; this furniture had been left also to Miss Yard by a rough kind of agreement; the same furniture had been bestowed upon Kezia by means of a number of sc.r.a.ps of paper which were certainly not legal doc.u.ments; while the greater part of the furniture had been also bequeathed to Bessie by means of similar sc.r.a.ps of paper. The conclusion arrived at by George was that the will must prevail over all other doc.u.ments, although it was difficult to see how he could prevent pilfering; and his final wise decision was to preserve silence concerning these sc.r.a.ps of paper in all his subsequent dealings with Messrs. Martin and Cross and Mr. Percy Taverner.

"I feel sure Kezia and Bessie cannot claim anything, but I'm afraid the lawyers may say the will is cancelled by the doc.u.ment given to Aunt Sophy," George muttered. "But then they needn't know anything about it.

All the business will be done through the trustees and myself. They don't know, and I shan't tell them. I'd better strike up a friendship with Percy; I'll conciliate him; I'll sacrifice the pair of silver candlesticks."

He went home, sealed the will in an envelope, and addressed it to Messrs. Martin and Cross. Then wrote to Percy, explaining his discovery of a sc.r.a.p of paper written by their late aunt, expressing a wish that the candlesticks should be given to him upon her death. "Of course they are mine really," he wrote, "but I feel that I ought to respect her wishes, especially as the candlesticks were given her as a wedding present by your mother."