Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-01-05
SQUIRREL.

In uOO0 Oh yeiiOW 6u0snloe $1,000 ADDOto
Grange early one May afternoon, looking the
! very picture Of smiling ease and comfort;
spring howerbeds dotted about its sloping
lawns, budding woods thick with bright blue
hyacinths sheltering it carefully from north
east winds, and soft sweep of corn-cropped,
meteorological valley nesting, as it were,
under the protecting shadow Of its gray gables
and many-windowed front.
But its seeming quietude was only-to put IL
quite correctly-brick deep. Within the quaint
old rooms of the dwelling very peculiar tur-
moil was going on; terrible upsetting Of
things as they had been; amazed submission to
things as they now appeared to be; dismay and
blank dread Of what might yet be coming.
For in the last week Of chill, tickle April,
Miss Pleasance Westbrook, spinster-mistress
Of Abbot's Grange, had suddenly resigned con-
troll Of all her worldly possessions. nipping
night FROST and q firm refusal to have a fire in
luxuries was past by five days. had proved too
much for the lady Of four-score. swift
attack of bronchitis afforded her a rapid and
almost painless exit from mortal scenes but
the unexpected summons created strange dis
turbance among survivors that began almost
as soon as the last "Amen" was said over her
grave: Then, as one Of the carriages turned
out OF the churchyard gate, said Mr.. West
brook, of High Courts, Gloucestershire, the
rich merchant-nephew Of the departed lady,
to her solicitor, John FOSTER
Il suppose those young connections Of mine
come in for pretty near everything Of the old
lady's, don't they? Do you happen to know il
shes paid me the compliment Of diamond
ring or silver soup-ladle9 OF course, you've
Really" was the answer, 81 can give you
no information at present. My father had
entire management Of the Abbot's Grange bus
mess, and he died some six months ago."
But you stepped into his shoes, didn't you?"
"Only partly: Miss Westbrook looked on me
as comparatively juvenile, l fancy though I
have been in the firm the last five years. She
never honored me with any confidential COM
munications, and even took all private papers
from our Office, the will most likely among
them"
"Ah, then, that elder girl yonder will know
its whereabouts She's rather a good-looking
young party. Ought to marry well if she's got
third Of the old maids hoard Got any
engagement, do you know?'
No, Mr.. Foster did not know. Perhaps the
question struck him as unreasonable. coming
village had been crying over the loss of their
kind, If eccentric, old friend. Anyhow, the
young lawyer gazed studiously out Of the car
riage window as they wound slowly up the hill,
and turned conversation to the beauty of some
noble oaks that skirted the road right and left.
"Ah! ha! good timber that" commented Mr..
Westbrook critically. ''Td have it down if it
was mine and turn it into capital that fetched
20 per cent. Can't see the good of trees stand
ing sucking up the land any more than lazy
horses eating their heads off in the stable. MY
father, you know-brother Of the old lady,
yonder," with nod toward the church, .'only
got as much as his sister when his father drop
ped. But he was wise. Married into trade.
My mothers people were in Eas. India ship
ping. He made mint of money, and turned
hot hah pn Oht chaov s.xD
lar show place. I've stuck to the same line,
and. with knowing expression, ''haven't lost
money, you bet. got little extra nous from
my mother"
And little something else" thought John
Miss Westbrook's cousin, the grandmother
OF these young people she adopted. married
into some county family, did she not?"
Mr.. Westbrook laughed. Exactly so.
Country gentleman in Norfolk, of the good old
half what he begun with. Then his son must
needs go bond for friend, and lost even that
whose hateth suretyship,' say THAT'S how
these young Ferrers came to be paupers."
Miss Westbrook was greatly attached to
them. sir"
"Ah! So suppose. She was a sentimental
old conservative. And their grandmother had
been brought up with her like an own sister,
I've heard. So instead of letting them prog for
themselves, as / recommended her to do ten
them In and did for them. Oh, here we are at
the house again. My train goes from Crow
chester at 4, sharp. So now for the will"
Mr. Westbrook might say, 'Now for the will!'
To everyone's profound establishment, no will
whatever was forthcoming Olive Ferrers.
graceful, dark-eyed girl of one-and-twenty,
now in sore grief at losing the loving guardian
OF her orphaned years, knew nothing OF the all
important document.
did it matter much?" she said, YEARLY, when
the rector and John Foster sought her out in
the library, where her sister and young brother
were trying to comfort her. 'It seemed horri-
BILE to be- troubling about money SO soon
after -"
And then she broke of, her sad eyes full of
tears, and the young lawyer felt how vivid was
brooks, and how her present pathos suited the
girl even better than the bright manner which
had rather turned his head when lately he had
paid professional visits to the Grange.
But though it went against the grain with
him to vex her, he explained clearly and forci-
bly, how needful 1t was to try and find this will
at once.
Had Miss Westbrook never told her where
she had put it? Never mentioned its details to
her? Naturally Mr.. WestbroOk would like to
know them before he left"
The only response to this was that Olive was
certain that Aunt Pleasance had never mem
TONED the matter in any way. Some things
she never liked to speak of. This must have
been one. Perhaps she had not made will at
all.
But, my dear young lady," cried the rector.
''thats impossible! 1t would leave YOU without
o farthing! Miss WestbroOk would never have
done it,"
II know she wouldn't" put in Olives youno
sister Helen, delicate girl of fifteen, iii she
could help it. But auntie was ill only such a
little time. Very likely she may have forget
Forgotten itr' repeated the clergyman in
dismay. my poor, dear child, don't suggest
"Or, tell you what" said the youngest Of
the adopted trio, 1.-the, clever-faced bow of
twelve, emerging from window curtain, where
he had been trying to hide q tear stained coun-
tenance. Poor old auntie put it off too long.
perhaps. You know I was with her the-the
last morning, just when she turned worse and
she whispered: i want to tell Olive so
fetched Olive, but then auntie seemed to have
forgotten everything. She could only look at
us puzzled-like, and-and never spoke any
more"
Then the lad burrowed back among the cur-
tains, being much ashamed to be caught cry-
ing. And the rector and lawyer left the room
in the utmost perplexity.
Every likely place was ransacked within the
| next hour. Every servant questioned. The
coachman remembered driving his mistress
from the late Mr.. Fosters Office, some time last
autumn, to Barnbys Bank, and they took tin
box in the carriage with them. of to Barnby's
Bank went the coachman now again. returning
with the said depositary, which the late Mr..
Fosters son searched through with the deepest
| anxiety. Bonds were there of railways and