"This is George, our nephew. He does nothing for a living," said the widow severely.

"Our nephew," repeated Miss Yard, in her earnest fashion. "His name is Percy, and he came to see me last year, but he seems to have altered a great deal. What is it he does for a living?"

"Nothing whatever," said Mrs. Drake.

"I've got a weak back," George mumbled.

"He's got a weak back, Maria. He must try red flannel and peppermint plasters," said Miss Yard with barbaric simplicity.

"Stuff and nonsense! He's got the back of a whale, if he'd only use it.

This is not Percy, our real nephew, who for some reason never comes near me, but my nephew by marriage. He's not your nephew really."

"I'm sorry for that. I like nephews, because they visit me sometimes.

What's the name of this place, Maria?"

"Highfield, and it's eight hundred feet above the sea," said George, in a great hurry to change the subject.

"I hope it's somewhere in the south of England. The doctor told me I was not to go near Yorkshire," said Miss Yard.

"You are in Devonshire, just upon the edge of Dartmoor," George explained.

"That sounds as if it ought to suit me. I can't explain it, but I was so afraid this might be Yorkshire. Where is Nellie? I do hope she wasn't lost at that dreadful railway station."

"Nellie is upstairs," Mrs. Drake replied.

"I wish somebody would go and bring her. I don't know what she can be doing upstairs. My memory is getting so troublesome, Maria. Before Nellie came to live with me I had quite forgotten she was Percy's sister."

"But she isn't," said Mrs. Drake. "Percy's only sister died as a child."

"Did she!" exclaimed Miss Yard. "I wonder how long I shall remember that. How many children did my brother Peter have?"

"He never married," replied Mrs. Drake.

"Then Nellie must be poor dear Louisa's daughter."

"That would make her Percy's sister. Nellie is your companion. She is not even so much related to you as George."

"Now I have quite forgotten who George was," said Miss Yard.

At this moment Nellie herself appeared with a load of luxuries, such as footstool, shawl, wool slippers, and various bottles to sniff at, which she had just unpacked. Miss Yard fondled the girl's hands, and told her that somebody--she could not remember who--had bees trying to make trouble between them by spreading a malicious story about Nellie's birth and parentage; but she was too muddled to know what it meant.

Mrs. Drake had been aware that her sister's intelligence was not high, but was dismayed at discovering her mental condition was so low; and she quickly repented of the new arrangement, which could not be altered now that Miss Yard had disposed of her house and most of her belongings; bringing just sufficient furniture to equip a sitting room and bedroom, and to replace those articles which Mrs. Drake had bestowed upon Bessie.

Her sister's furniture soon became a source of anxiety to Mrs. Drake, as she did not like to have things in the house which did not belong to her, and she also foresaw difficulties should the partnership be dissolved at any time by the death of either her sister or herself. So she took a sheet of notepaper and wrote upon it, "If I depart before Sophy, all my things are to belong to her for her lifetime;" and this doc.u.ment she placed within a sandalwood box standing upon the chest of drawers in her bedroom.

Then she took another sheet of notepaper and commanded her sister to write upon it, "If I die before Maria, all my things are to belong to her." Miss Yard obeyed, but when this piece of paper had been stored away within the j.a.panese cabinet standing upon the chest of drawers in her bedroom, she took a sheet of notepaper upon her own account, and wrote, "When I am gone, all my things are to belong to Nellie;" and this was stored away in the bottom drawer of her davonport, as she had already forgotten the existence of the other hiding place.

And this was the beginning of the extraordinary will-making which was destined to stir up strife among the beneficiaries.

CHAPTER V

GEORGE TACKLES THE LABOUR PROBLEM

The following summer Percy Taverner visited his aunts. This gentleman, who was younger than George, would in due course inherit the money left by the late Mr. Yard to his sons and daughters, of whom the two ladies of Highfield were now the sole survivors. Therefore Percy had nothing to lose by being uncivil, although as a matter of fact he had only neglected Mrs. Drake because he disliked her husband. His Aunt Sophy he loved with good reason, for he made a living by mortgaging his fruit farm, and when the borrowed money was spent he had only to explain matters to Miss Yard, and she would pay off the mortgage and immediately forget all about it. Percy was not an idler like George, but he possessed little business capacity, and had selected a form of occupation about which he knew nothing whatever; and as he would be quite a rich man when his aunts departed, he did not take the trouble to learn. Nor did he care to consider such examples of longevity as the giant tortoise and the Yellow Leaf.

Miss Yard was delighted to see Percy, but greatly distressed when he declined to kiss his own sister; at least he was willing, but Nellie positively refused. The usual explanations were gone through, and the good lady tried hard to understand.

"Of course you are right not to kiss Nellie as she's your cousin. Young people who can marry must not get into the habit of kissing each other,"

she said.

Mrs. Drake was inclined to be chilly towards Percy, but thawed quickly when he revealed himself as an attentive and obliging young man. She was quite sorry he had to sleep across the road in Bessie's cottage because there was no spare room in Windward House; and was almost indignant when Percy declared upon the second day he could not stay until the end of the week, as he dared not neglect his tomato plants.

"Your foreman can look after them," she said. "I have not seen you for years, and after all there's nothing like one's own relations. It's a pleasure to have some one to talk to, for your poor Aunt Sophy is getting so stupid, and George is no company at all. What do you think of George?" she asked suddenly.

"Not much," replied Percy with a laugh.

"I want to speak to you about George," Mrs. Drake continued. "You're the head of my family, so I should like your advice about the good-for-nothing creature. He is getting on for forty, and has never done a day's work in his life. He sleeps here, and takes his meals, and grumbles, and begs money--and, my dear Percy, he has been seen coming out of the public house. He does nothing whatever. He won't even dig up the potatoes."

"He knows you can't leave him anything?" asked Percy.

"Of course he knows it. He will have the furniture and all the curiosities collected by the Captain; I think that's only right, and besides, I promised my husband he should have them. But the things won't be of much use if he hasn't got a home."

"He can sell them," said Percy.

"Second-hand furniture goes for next to nothing," replied Mrs. Drake.

"That depends," said Percy. Then he pointed to the mantelpiece and continued, "If I were you, Aunt, I should wrap those two Chinese vases in cotton-wool, and put them away."

"Are they really valuable? My dear husband thought they were, but I'm afraid he didn't know much about such things, and he would exaggerate sometimes. He used to say they were worth a hundred pounds apiece."

"He was under the mark," said Percy. "I'm not an expert, but I know more about Chinese vases than I do about tomatoes, as a friend of mine deals in the things, and I've picked up a lot from him. I believe those vases are worth a heap of money."

"Well, that is a surprise!" cried Mrs. Drake. "I shall take your advice and pack them away. Don't mention it to George."

"Certainly not," said Percy, somewhat indignantly.

"And now what can you suggest?" Mrs. Drake continued, waddling to the mantelpiece and flicking a disreputable blowfly from one of the vases.

"I have told George plainly a hundred times he must do something for a living, but he won't take a hint. I suppose you wouldn't care to give him employment? He ought to know something about fruit, as he spends half his time leaning against an apple tree."

"He wouldn't work under me. Besides, I'm doing a losing business as it is. It's a jolly difficult problem, Aunt."

"Will you open his eyes to his folly and wickedness? If you can't make him ashamed, you may be able to frighten him. Tell him, if he works, I will help him; but, if he won't work, I'll do nothing more for him."

"All right, Aunt. I'll shift the beggar," said Percy cheerfully; and he went out to search for his victim.