Do take the gentleman to the parlor door, said Ruth, hastily, hearing the footstep of the visitor at the top of the stairs. Dot, go unlock that door, dear.
Aunt Sarahs sitting in there, Ruth, whispered Aggie, hastily.
Well, but Aunt Sarah wont bite him, said Ruth, hurriedly removing her apron and smoothing her hair.
Just think of Uncle Peter being dead, repeated Aggie, in a daze.
And he was Aunt Sarahs half brother, you know. Of course, neither her father nor mother was Uncle Peters father or mother their parents were all married twice. And
Oh, dont! gasped the plump sister. We never can figure out the relationship you know we cant, Ruth. Really, Aunt Sarah isnt blood-kin to us at all.
Uncle Peter never would admit it, said Ruth, slowly. He was old enough to object, mother said, when our grandfather married a second time.
Of course. I know, acknowledged Aggie. Aunt Sarah isnt really a Stower at all!
But Aunt Sarahs always said the property ought to come to her, when Uncle Peter died.
I hope he has left her something I do hope so. It would help out a lot, said Aggie, serious for the moment.
Why yes. It would be easier for us to get along, if she had her own support, admitted Ruth.
And wed save five cents a week for peppermints! giggled Aggie suddenly, seeing the little white bag of candy on the table.
How you do talk, Ag, said Ruth, admonishingly, and considering herself presentable, she went through the bedroom into the front room, or parlor, of the flat. Aggie had to stay to watch the cake, which was now turning a lovely golden brown in the oven.
The tall, gray gentleman with the sharp eyes and beak-like nose, had been ushered in by the two little girls and had thankfully taken a seat. He was wiping his perspiring forehead with a checked silk handkerchief, and had set the high hat down by his chair.
Those quick, gray eyes of his had taken in all the neat poverty of the room. A careful and tasteful young housekeeper was Ruth Kenway. Everything was in its place; the pictures on the wall were hung straight; there was no dust.
In one of the two rockers sat Aunt Sarah. It was the most comfortable rocker, and it was drawn to the window where the sun came in. Aunt Sarah had barely looked up when the visitor entered, and of course she had not spoken. Her knitting needles continued to flash in the sunlight.
She was a withered wisp of a woman, with bright brown eyes under rather heavy brows. There were three deep wrinkles between those eyes. Otherwise, Aunt Sarah did not show in her countenance many of the ravages of time.
Her hair was but slightly grayed; she wore it crimped on the sides, doing it up carefully in cunning little pigtails every night before she retired. She was scrupulous in the care of her hands; her plain gingham dress was neat in every particular.
Indeed, she was as prim and old-maidish as any spinster lady possibly could be. Nothing ever seemed to ruffle Aunt Sarah. She lived sort of a detached life in the Kenway family. Nothing went on that she was not aware of, and often as even Ruth admitted she had a finger in the pie which was not exactly needed!
I am Mr. Howbridge, said the visitor, rising and putting out his hand to the oldest Kenway girl, and taking in her bright appearance in a single shrewd glance.
On her part, Aunt Sarah nodded, and pressed her lips together firmly, flashing him another birdlike look, as one who would say: That is what I expected. You could not hide your identity from me.
I am or was, said the gentleman, clearing his throat and sitting down again, but still addressing himself directly to Ruth, Mr. Peter Stowers attorney and confidant in business if he could be said to be confidential with anybody. Mr. Stower was a very secretive man, young lady.
Aunt Sarah pursed her lips and tossed her head, as though mentally saying: You cant tell me anything about that.
Ruth said: I have heard he was peculiar, sir. But I do not remember of ever seeing him.
You did see him, however, said Mr. Howbridge. That was when you were a very little girl. If I am not mistaken, it was when this lady, and he bowed to the silent, knitting figure in the rocking-chair, who is known as your Aunt Sarah, came to live with your mother and father.
Possibly, said Ruth, hastily. I do not know.
It was one of few events of his life, connected in any way with his relatives, of which Mr. Stower spoke to me, Mr. Howbridge said. This lady expressed a wish to live with your mother, and your Uncle Peter brought her. I believe he never contributed to her support? he added, slowly.
Aunt Sarah might have been a graven image, as far as expressing herself upon this point went. Her needles merely flashed in the sunlight. Ruth felt troubled and somewhat diffident in speaking of the matter.
I do not think either father or mother ever minded that, she said.
Ah? returned Mr. Howbridge. And your mother has been dead how long, my dear? Ruth told him, and he nodded. Your income was not increased by her death? There was no insurance?
Oh, no, sir.
He looked at her for a moment with some embarrassment, and cleared his throat again before asking his next question.
Do you realize, my dear, that you and your sisters are the only living, and direct, relatives of Mr. Peter Stower?
Ruth stared at him. She felt that her throat was dry, and she could not bring her tongue into play. She merely shook her head slowly.
Through your mother, my dear, you and your sisters will inherit your Great Uncle Peters property. It is considerable. With the old Corner House and the tenement property in Milton, bonds and cash in bank, it amounts to approximately a hundred thousand dollars.
But but Aunt Sarah! gasped Ruth, in surprise.
Ahem! your Aunt Sarah was really no relative of the deceased.
Here Aunt Sarah spoke up for the first time, her knitting needles clicking. I thank goodness I was not, she said. My father was a Maltby, but Mr. Stower, Peters father, always wished me to be called by his name. He always told my mother he should provide for me. I have, therefore, looked to the Stower family for my support. It was and is my right.
She tossed her head and pursed her lips again.
Yes, said Mr. Howbridge. I understand that the elder Mr. Stower died intestate without making a will, my dear, he added, speaking again to Ruth. If he ever expressed his intention of remembering your Aunt Sarah with a legacy, Mr. Peter Stower did not consider it mandatory upon him.
But of course Uncle Peter has remembered Aunt Sarah in his will? questioned the dazed Ruth.
He most certainly did, said Mr. Howbridge, more briskly. His will was fully and completely drawn. I drew it myself, and I still have the notes in the old mans handwriting, relating to the bequests. Unfortunately, added the lawyer, with a return to a grave manner, the actual will of Mr. Peter Stower cannot be found.
Aunt Sarahs needles clicked sharply, but she did not look up. Ruth stared, wide-eyed, at Mr. Howbridge.
As was his custom with important papers, Mr. Stower would not trust even a safety deposit box with the custody of his will. He was secretive, as I have said, began the lawyer again.
Then Aunt Sarah interrupted: Just like a magpie, she snapped. I know em the Stowers. Peter was always doing it when he was a young man hidin things away fraid a body would see something, or know something. Thats why he wanted to get me out of the house. Oh, I knew his doins and his goins-on!
As was his custom with important papers, Mr. Stower would not trust even a safety deposit box with the custody of his will. He was secretive, as I have said, began the lawyer again.
Then Aunt Sarah interrupted: Just like a magpie, she snapped. I know em the Stowers. Peter was always doing it when he was a young man hidin things away fraid a body would see something, or know something. Thats why he wanted to get me out of the house. Oh, I knew his doins and his goins-on!
Miss Maltby has stated the case, said Mr. Howbridge, bowing politely. Somewhere in the old house, of course, Mr. Stower hid the will and probably other papers of value. They will be found in time, we hope. Meanwhile
Yes, sir? queried Ruth, breathlessly, as the lawyer stopped.
Mr. Stower has been dead a fortnight, explained the lawyer, quietly. Nobody knew as much about his affairs as myself. I have presented the notes of his last will and testament made quite a year ago to the Probate Court, and although they have no legal significance, the Court agrees with me that the natural heirs of the deceased should enter upon possession of the property and hold it until the complications arising from the circumstances can be made straight.
Oh, Aunt Sarah! I am so glad for you! cried Ruth, clasping her hands and smiling one of her wonderful smiles at the little old lady.
Aunt Sarah tossed her head and pursed her lips, just as though she said, I have always told you so.
Mr. Howbridge cleared his throat again and spoke hastily: You do not understand, Miss Kenway. You and your sisters are the heirs at law. At the best, Miss Maltby would receive only a small legacy under Mr. Stowers will. The residue of the estate reverts to you through your mother, and I am nominally your guardian and the executor.
Ruth stared at him, open mouthed. The two little girls had listened without clearly understanding all the particulars. Aggie had crept to the doorway (the cake now being on the table and off her mind), and she was the only one who uttered a sound. She said Oh!
You children you four girls are the heirs in question. I want you to get ready to go to Milton as soon as possible. You will live in the old Corner House and I shall see, with the Probate Court, that all your rights are guarded, Mr. Howbridge said.
It was Dorothy, the youngest, who seemed first to appreciate the significance of this great piece of news. She said, quite composedly:
Then we can buy some candy sides those pepmint drops for Aunt Sarah, on Saturdays.
CHAPTER III THE OLD CORNER HOUSE
Now, said Tess, with her most serious air, shall we take everything in our playhouse, Dot, or shall we take only the best things?
Oh-oo-ee! sighed Dot. Its so hard to cide, Tess, just what is the best. Course, Im going to take my Alice-doll and all her things.
Tess pursed her lips. That old cradle she used to sleep in when she was little, is dreadfully shabby. And one of the rockers is loose.
Oh, but Tess! cried the younger girl. It was hers. You know, when she gets really growed up, shell maybe want it for a keepsake. Maybe shell want dollies of her own to rock in it.
Dot did not lack imagination. The Alice-doll was a very real personality to the smallest Kenway girl.
Dot lived in two worlds the regular, work-a-day world in which she went to school and did her small tasks about the flat; and a much larger, more beautiful world, in which the Alice-doll and kindred toys had an actual existence.
And all the clothes shes outgrown and shoes and everything? demanded Tess. Then, with a sigh: Well, it will be an awful litter, and Ruth says the trunks are just squeezed full right now!
The Kenways were packing up for removal to Milton. Mr. Howbridge had arranged everything with Ruth, as soon as he had explained the change of fortune that had come to the four sisters.
None of them really understood what the change meant not even Ruth. They had always been used ever since they could remember to what Aggie called tight squeezing. Mr. Howbridge had placed fifty dollars in Ruths hand before he went away, and had taken a receipt for it. None of the Kenways had ever before even seen so much money at one time.
They were to abandon most of their poor possessions right here in the flat, for their great uncles old house was crowded with furniture which, although not modern, was much better than any of theirs. Aunt Sarah was going to take her special rocker. She insisted upon that.
I wont be beholden to Peter for even a chair to sit in! she had said, grimly, and that was all the further comment she made upon the astounding statement of the lawyer, that the eccentric old bachelor had not seen fit to will all his property to her!
There was a bit of uncertainty and mystery about the will of Uncle Peter, and about their right to take over his possessions. Mr. Howbridge had explained that fully to Ruth.
There was no doubt in his mind but that the will he had drawn for Uncle Peter was still in existence, and that the old gentleman had made no subsequent disposal of his property to contradict the terms of the will the lawyer remembered.
There were no other known heirs but the four Kenway sisters. Therefore the Probate Court had agreed that the lawyer should enter into possession of the property on behalf of Ruth and her sisters.
As long as the will was not found, and admitted to probate, and its terms clearly established in law, there was doubt and uncertainty connected with the girls wonderful fortune. Some unexpected claimant might appear to demand a share of the property. It was, in fact, now allowed by the Court, that Mr. Howbridge and the heirs-at-law should occupy the deceaseds home and administer the estate, being answerable to the probate judge for all that was done.
To the minds of Tess and Dot, all this meant little. Indeed, even the two older girls did not much understand the complications. What Aunt Sarah understood she managed, as usual, to successfully hide within herself.
There was to be a wonderful change in their affairs that was the main thing that impressed the minds of the four sisters. Dot had been the first to express it concretely, when she suggested they might treat themselves on Saturdays to something beside the usual five cents worth of peppermint drops.
I expect, said Tess, that we wont really know how to live, Dot, in so big a house. Just think! theres three stories and an attic!
Just as if we were living in this very tenement all, all alone! breathed Dot, with awe.
Only much better and bigger and nicer, said Tess, eagerly. Ruth remembers going there once with mother. Uncle Peter was sick. She didnt go up stairs, but stayed down with a big colored man Uncle Rufus. She members all about it. The room she stayed in was as big as all these in our flat, put together.
This was too wonderful for Dot to really understand. But if Ruth said it, it must be so. She finally sighed again, and said:
I I guess Ill be fraid in such rooms. And well get lost in the house, if its so big.
No. Of course, we wont live all over the house. Maybe well live days on the first floor, and sleep in bedrooms on the second floor, and never go up stairs on the other floors at all.
Oh, well! said Dot, gaining sudden courage and curiosity. I guess Id want to see whats on them, just the same.