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Only to-day I've bought a lot of silver for her, and I'm going to buy a lot more. After the underclothes are done I'm going about the table linen, though she don't need it. I ain't using a mite of her aunt Abrahama's. I'm saving it all for her. I'm saving everything for her. I've made my will and left all her aunt's property to her. What have I done? I'm doing right; I tell you I'm doing right.
"So they be, the way other folks run 'em," said Henry; "but not the way I'd run 'em." "We'll have a good, steady horse that won't shy at one, if we have anything," said Sylvia, and her voice had weight. "There's a good buggy in Abrahama's barn," said Meeks. Sylvia made an unexpected start. "I think we are wicked as we can be!" she declared, violently.
"She is going to stay right here in her aunt Abrahama's house, and have all she would have had if there hadn't been any will," said she, fiercely. "You would make her stay if she didn't want to?" said Henry, gazing at her wonderingly. "She's got to want to stay," said Sylvia, still with the same strange passion. "There'll be enough going on; you needn't worry.
"What about Rose Fletcher, Abrahama's sister Susy's daughter?" asked Sylvia, presently. "She is her own niece." "You know Abrahama never had anything to do with Susy after she married John Fletcher," replied the lawyer. "She made her will soon afterward, and cut her off." "I remember what they said at the time," returned Sylvia.
Only a few of the stones which Rose wore caught the moonlight to any extent, but she was all of a shimmer and gleam, like a creature decked with dewdrops. "Look at me," she whispered again. "I am looking." "Do you see?" "What?" "They are poor Aunt Abrahama's jewels. Aunt Sylvia gave them to me. Aren't they beautiful? Such lovely, old-fashioned settings. You can't half see in the moonlight.
"I've got one boarder," replied Sylvia, with dignity, "and we keep him because he can't bear to go anywhere else in East Westland, and because we like his company." "I thought Abrahama White's niece " "She ain't no boarder. She makes her home here. If you think we'd take a cent of money from poor Abrahama's own niece, you're mistaken." "I didn't know.
Sylvia looked at Sidney in bewilderment, then she scrutinized the will. "I don't see any date," she said, at last, "and there is no name signed except just Abrahama's." Meeks stepped forward. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "Mrs. Whitman has, I am pleased to say, been under quite unnecessary anxiety of spirit. The document which she holds is not valid. It is neither dated nor signed.
Henry told her in few words. "You mean that Abrahama's niece was taken care of by Miss Farrel when her mother died, and Miss Farrel got a place for her to live with some New York folks, and you mean Miss Farrel was related to her mother?" said Sylvia. She looked sharply at Henry. "Yes," he replied, feebly. Horace stood looking out of the window. "She wa'n't," said Sylvia. "Now, Sylvia."
She had never sewed much, but she had an inventive genius in dress, and, when she once took up her needle, used it deftly. When Sylvia confided to her her aspiration concerning the pink silk which she had found among Abrahama's possessions, Rose did not laugh at all, but she looked at her thoughtfully.
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