Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son

Of the funeral rites it is unnecessary to speak. We are interested in what came afterwards.

The relations were quietly notified to meet at five o’clock in the office of Mr. Spencer, the lawyer, to whom had been intrusted the will of the late Mr. Carter. Those who have even a slight knowledge of human nature will not need to be told that the attendance of all was punctual. There was an anxious, expectant look on the faces of all—not even excepting the old lady. She knew that if her brother had made no provision for her, she must go to the alms-house, and against this her honest pride revolted. She was willing to live on anything, however little, if she might live independently, as she had hitherto done. To feel herself dependent on public charity would indeed have been a hard trial for the poor old lady. Of all, probably Mrs. Pinkerton was the most confident. She had come to feel that her family was entitled to a large share of the estate, and she had gone so far as to decide just how she would invest it, and what new arrangements she would make, for she had no idea of consulting her husband on the subject.

The lawyer was a gentlemanly-looking man, whose face inspired confidence in his integrity—a remark which, unhappily, cannot be made of all in his profession. He took his seat at a table, and produced the will, which he considerately commenced reading at once. After the usual introduction, the will proceeded thus:

“To my sister Nancy I give the use of my house, rent free, as long as she shall live. I leave her also an income of two hundred dollars a year, which, as her wants are small, will be sufficient to maintain her in comfort.”

The old lady breathed a sigh of relief. Her fears were removed. She could continue to live as she had been accustomed to do, and need not be beholden to private or public charity. Mrs. Pinkerton was not so well pleased. She felt almost as if she had been deprived of what belonged to her by right. She frowned at Miss Nancy, but the old lady was unconscious of the displeasure excited in the bosom of her imposing-looking relative.

The lawyer proceeded: “To my cousin, Alonzo Granger, I leave one hundred dollars; not because he needs it, for I understand that he is well-to-do, but as a mark of remembrance.”

The farmer scowled slightly, and opened and closed his brown hands in dissatisfaction. He was well-to-do; but when was a man ever satisfied with that? He had counted upon a few thousands, with which he proposed to buy an adjoining farm. Mrs. Pinkerton, however, was pleased. There was so much the more for her.

“To Cornelius Dixon”—here Herbert’s morning acquaintance began to feel excited—“I bequeath one hundred dollars, to buy a looking-glass and a new suit of clothes.”

The young man’s face lengthened very perceptibly as he heard the small amount of his legacy, and he glared savagely at Mrs. Pinkerton, who showed a mirthful face at his discomfiture.

Her turn came next.

“To Josiah Pinkerton, his wife and children, I leave one hundred dollars apiece; also my best black pantaloons, which he or his wife may appropriate, as may be arranged between them.”

All except the Pinkertons laughed at this sly hit, and even the lawyer smiled; but the stout lady flushed with rage and disappointment, and ejaculated: “Abominable!” The eyes of all were now directed to Herbert, who was the only one remaining. Could it be possible that the balance of the property was left to him? The fear of this made him the focus of unfriendly eyes, and he became restive and anxious.

“To my namesake, Herbert Carter, I leave a black trunk which I keep in my room, with all that it contains. To his mother I direct that the sum of one hundred dollars be paid.”

This was not much, but it was more than Herbert had expected. He knew how welcome even one hundred dollars would be to his mother, and he looked satisfied—the only one of the party, except the old lady, who showed any pleasure at the contents of the will.

The relatives looked bewildered. All had been mentioned in turn, and yet but a small part—a very small part—of the estate had been disposed of. Mrs. Pinkerton bluntly expressed the general curiosity.

“Who’s to have the rest, Mr. Spencer?” she demanded.

“I’m coming to that,” answered the lawyer, quietly.

“All the rest and residue of my property, of whatever kind, I leave to the town of Randolph, to establish a high school, directing that not more than twenty thousand dollars be expended upon the building, which shall be of brick. I desire that the school shall be known as the Carter School, to the end that my name may be remembered in connection with what I hope will prove a public blessing.” “That is all,” said the lawyer, and he laid down the will upon the table.

CHAPTER V

WHAT CAME AFTERWARD

There was silence for a minute after the will was read. Mrs. Pinkerton fanned herself furiously, and looked angry and excited.

At length she said: “I wish to say that that is a very unjust will, Mr. Spencer.”

“I am not responsible for it, Mrs. Pinkerton,” answered the lawyer, quietly.

“I don’t know what the rest of you think,” said the angry lady, with a general glance around the office, “but I think the will ought to be broken.”

“On what grounds?” asked Mr. Spencer.

“He had no right to put off his own flesh and blood with a beggarly pittance, and leave all his money to the town.”

“Pardon me; whatever you may think of Mr. Carter’s will, there is no doubt that he had a perfect legal right to dispose of it as he did.”

“Then the laws ought to be altered,” said Mrs. Pinkerton, angrily. “I don’t believe he was sane when he made the will.”

“If you can prove that,” said the lawyer, “you can set aside the will; but not otherwise.”

“My brother was in his right mind,” here interposed Miss Nancy. “He always meant to give the town money for a school.”

“No doubt you think he was sane,” sneered Mrs. Pinkerton, turning upon the old lady. “You have fared better than any of us.”

“Miss Nancy was most nearly related to the deceased,” said the lawyer, “and she needed help most.”

“It’s all very well to talk,” said the lady, tossing her head, “but me and mine have been badly used. I have hard work enough to support the family, and little help I get from him,” she added, pointing to her unhappy husband.

“I’m workin’ all the time,” remonstrated Josiah. “You are unkind, Maria.”

“I could hire a boy to do all your work for three dollars a week,” she retorted. “That’s all you help me. I’ve worried along for years, expectin’ Mr. Carter would do something handsome for us; and now he’s put us off with four hundred dollars.”

“I get only one hundred,” said the farmer.

“And I, too. It’s a beastly shame,” remarked Cornelius.

“Really,” said the lawyer, “it appears to me unseemly to speak so bitterly so soon after the funeral.”

“I dare say you like it well enough,” said Mrs. Pinkerton, sharply. “You’ve got all our money to build a schoolhouse.”

“It will not benefit me any more than the townspeople generally,” said the lawyer. “For my part, I should have been glad if my late friend had left a larger sum to those connected with him by blood.”

“Don’t you think we could break the will?” asked Mrs. Pinkerton, persuasively. “Couldn’t you help us?”

“You can attempt it, but I assure you in advance you haven’t the ghost of a chance. You would only lose your money, for the town would strenuously oppose you.”

The stout lady’s face fell. She felt that the last hope was gone.

“All I can say is, that it’s a scandalous thing,” she concluded, bitterly.

“I should like to know what’s in that trunk he left you,” said Cornelius Dixon, turning to Herbert. “Maybe it’s money or bonds. If it is, don’t forget our agreement.”

This drew attention to Herbert.

“To be sure,” said Mrs. Pinkerton, whose curiosity was aroused, “Mr. Dixon may be right. Suppose we all go over to the house and open it.”

Herbert looked irresolutely toward the lawyer.

“There is no objection, I suppose,” said Mr. Spencer.

“I know what’s in the trunk,” said Miss Nancy.