Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1873-08-30
THE SEALED WILL.

"Do you suppose, mamma, IN case
| the money goes from me that it Will
be given to you?"
"Dear child, how can I ever guess?
Your aunt, remember, is your fathers
sister, not mine; so it is scarcely likely
| she has thought of me. / am afraid
| the heir in the sealed will is John
| Garland"
Mammal
cit Is only guess-worlz, dear. - -
''But he is unfit to have the respon-
sibility of money; a man known to be
a gambler a drinking man, if not an
actual drunkard."
Every true. Yet he is the nearest
relative your aunt Jessie had, except
tngly only yourself"
81 can scarcely think Aunt Jessie
would leave him S50,000."
'My dear, she has left ii to you, her
neice and namesake."
''But on the condition that 1 shall
never marry. If I do, the sealed will
in the hands of her lawyer is to be
opened, and the money pass from me
to the heir or heirs named therein.
You must know me well enough to be
sure that the money would never
| tempt me to break my engagement ;
yet for your sake wish-Oh, why did
Aunt Jessie leave it to me at all?''
'Do not think of me. can live as
we have done since father died. But,
| jessie" and Mrs. Markham's face
looked grave and sad, "there is one
view of the matter you do not take. "
'I dare say there are fifty. Remem-
Der we have now had only an hour or
two to think, since the letter came
from the lawyer. But what is the
view you mean?"
"Charlie."
"Chariie?"
Jessie's large brown eyes were open
ed to their widest extent as she re-
peated the name, adding:
''Why, l haven't thought of any
thing but Charlie"
Butt mean-dear me ~ said the
mother. shrinking from uttering her
own thoughts. "You know, dear,
you have always been considered
your aunt's heiress; and Charles is
young and only commencing the srac-
tice of his profession. 1t may be that
he will"
''Be false to me for the sake of
money!" interrupted Jessie, with the
rosiest of cheeks and brightest of
eyes. "We will soon test that" and
she drew a writing table to her side.
81 will send him a copy of the law
yer's letter, and"-here her voice and
eyes softened-''the assurance that
Aunt Jessie's will viii make no differ
ence to me-"
Mrs. Markham made no objection to
this step, but after the letter was
signed, sealed and dispatched to the
village by Polly, the only servant of
Mrs. Markham's household, she called
Jessie again to her side.
Over the fair, sweet face of the
young girl there had crept a shade of
gravity and perplexity since the arri-
val of the lawyers letter that clouded
the brown eyes and gave the sensitive,
mobile mouth a firmer pressure than
was quite natural. Life had not been
all sunshine for Jessie Markham, vet
hers was one of those bouyant na-
lures that find the silver lining for
every cloud, and coax someness from
every bitter dose. Her father had
been dead for six years, and his bust
ness affairs having been complicated
in some way not comprehensive to
feminine intellects, his widow and
child found themselves reduced to an
income that barely covered the neces-
sites of life. They left the city, and
! took small cottage in the small VII
lage of Merton, where Mrs. Markham
| soon procured a class of music schoI-
ars, and herself gave Jessie lessons
in the higher branches of English
studies, German, French and music,
till, at eighteen, her daughter also
procured few pupils in languages.
They were very happy in their mutual
affection, in the love of their pupils,
and the cares of their little house
hold.
1t had been understood from the
time Jessie was tiny baby that she
would inherit the fortune of her
maiden aunt, for whom she was nam
ed, and who came from the city every
summer to spend a month or two in
the little cottage, always bringing