AUNT PRISCILLA HACKETT

Evening Star, Issue 13013, 7 January 1907, Page 7

AUNT PRISCILLA HACKETT

[All Eights Reserved.]

A CHRISTMAS STOBY, • By Axntf. S. Swax ( Author o£ 'Alders\de,' 'Burden Bearers,' etc.).

"Thi-r is a letter from Aunt Friscilla, Gertie," said George Larmer to liis wife across the' breakfast table one morning. "The old ladv is dnll and miserable, and dre-iding Christmas. She asks whether ■we'll invite her hero." Mrs George, a tail, handsome person, •with a scnicwhat aggressive air, pursed up her -lip.-, and did not immediately reply. She bus : ed herself for a moment with tho baby in his high chair at her side, hammering contentedly with hi-s mug on the tray before him. "Be quiet, darlimt. or you will be sent fcwav." she .said, with such a stern face that" the small boy regarded lier with a startled air. "I suppose it won't make much d ffevence, Gertie? I may .send a line to tho old ladv and tell her to como along?"

Mis George knit her brows. "I your Aimt Prkcilla in ChristnKus week. George. In fact, it's impossible." . "But wbv. dear! 1$ there any particular reason? She was very kind to me as a boy. and though ehe isn't well off we needn't be rude to her." 'Tin not rude. I've put up with a lot from fc<r. She's really a very disagreeable person, George. And you've, forgotten that our dinner to the Warehams and the Barfords and that set comes off next week. How could we have Miss Hackett at that? Whv, it would spoil everything.'' -But Judv and Tom will be here, of course. Thev'd help with her." '•Judv and Tom won't." she answered sharply.' " It's not a family party, stupid, bui. a real dinner party. Why need we have relations all the time? Nobody elsedoes. And entertaining should have some useful object."' •• What do we care about the. Waieham crowd? Thev'l! onlv come for what they get, and criticise us" after." observed Lariner. ratlier testily. At this undoubtedly vulgar remark Mrs George showed signs of extreme displeasuie. -'Ho* horrid you are, George Larmer; but you generally are, where my friends are concerned.". George did not look conspicuously guilty. He felt a little aunoyed, and showed it -•. his face. He was a peaceable man, who ttsualtv permitted his wife to please herself

in evervtmnir. .jusd onw m .<- »«« •"■• would speak up, then she knew it was no use beating against it. hfhe sincerely hoped, however, that he was not going to insist on havrnc his aunt on a Christmas visit. She told herself it- would spoil evervthing. . Mi» Priscilla Hackett was certainly no. a verv amiable person. Then, she was *uch a fright: Gerrrudc conjured up a vision of what she had looked like the last time thev had been over at Caniberwel' to see her, and when the thought of her smart friends beholding her. and hearing her ertraordinary mode of speech, she almost groaned IB spirit. ''Why doesn't she write to Judy and offer a Vkrt*'" she said, snappishly. "I don't know," answered CJeorge. "There's her letter. You can read it for ■vtranself." He pushed it across tho- table ; but Mrs Larmer was in no hurry to take it up. When ehe did, her lip curled a little as she read it. How well she know the cheap paper, the crabbed little letters, the queer, labored.dtyle of expression. Miss Priscilla Hackett 'belonged to the old school, and had small sympathy with modern methods of living. She certainly had a sharp tongue, and pa the rare occasion.? when ihc hail paid a visit to the Larmers, or to nephew George, a* s-he called him. ohe hud seen much in their way of life to tall forth her disapproval. She had never liked Gertrude, to begin with, since 6:ie was a littlegirl who jeered at !he spinster's poke bonnet.

There had never been an open rupture, but rather a sort of armed neutrality between Mies Hackett and her nephew's wife. Larmer himself thought hi.s aunt a little eccentrie. but always pitied and wa.s kind to her. because she was poor and !od sucli. a- lonely life. But lie was too wi*e a man to insist on her coming t;> visit them against his wife's express desire. He guwe-ed the- result would not l;e pleasant or comfortable for anybody concerned. "If you're going to" have all that crowd, then. Gertie. 1 &uppuee I rr.ir.it write- to the old lady and put her off. But mind. I don't like to do it." '• Oh. you can write ever so nicely. George; and My we'il have her later on." said .Mr-> George, uipioraatically. "And you know, deai. it is much more importaii' "tor us :n out 1.n.-itifm. and you with your war to make, t-j cultivate people who are likely to be ut-etul t« us." fhiuitired hi.» shu'iit'crs. •■ 1 don't exactly .-. c where the Warehams and th- Bat ford* nr? soing to do me any good. Thfy ih ; nk thcic.ie.'ves :'mi;eboiiy. and they jutror.i-o yon. (Srrtic. on!y you" won't .see it. And they'll only come hem for <.\ir tie.'t and drink, ami irHh.i.-e it. Wc i-iii'x coupe:* with them." "}'e.a and iiiiid:—rcallj. < ieorge. you are !i:>p-"i-• o'y vulp'r. I'm sure if .Mrs t -u'i-! lie.'t van c-he'-cl newi- eouic r.e::r tl'e ]p!;i..:." ••it wtuit'n't rc;:-:ti-!v affPet me. It's th? truth. 1i..-T-.:,-: : .i.d '-,. rha,,; y.,u"l live to prove k. Ar;-:i"i «e t.i have .Judy at,(l Tout. then, un th'.- <;nast!:n':" "No. (I'ro.'L'c. docidediy n it. They won't mix. Judy is a dear little miul. hut icaiiy rather u:e-diul. She niind what she suy.= . She'd shock -Mis Waiehaui in five minntc.3. Tiitu at her clothe.;. Ha* Tern .i«.ui a ilres.i suit?" Larmer n\:ide a little mimace. •■ril think I"!! l-o. Gertie. The high horee is o:i rhc \venvitit. and I can't rt-aiid it, you know: I i.eier could. Then I take it you won't have Aunt I'ri.-. ?" '"• No. 'Jiorge. not at |:rcviit. I'm slaving to uphold youi position, but I don'l seem to cot much thanks." •• Never mind, yoa j;et a littlo glorification for vounself." he .-aid. with a touch of maliciousness. "I can't miv I'm in lov with the prospect oi (iri.Um.i-- week, and Vre a good irind to go away with Tom somewhere for rhr> holidays." "George Lntmer. if you do I'll never forgive you."' -Ho slid, tragically.

He'launhed. the baby and iter, and went oil to bus--ii:;'fs.

She did not watch him from the doorstep as usual. Her temper was jubt a little ruffled, and jt was such .small sign~ that indicated it.

She had gained her point, however. Site need not hive the old frump from Cambei-. well sitting round prying into her house keeping affairs, and generally disapproving of hex extravagance. Gertrude was a little extravagant, and often Larmer sighed an he considered how little headway tliey were making,, and that nothing was being put Vr <eH&er tor the ruiny -dav or to ticip th«m to a better position by-and-bye. He worked hard, but a young f-olicitor with his way to make, and" very few influential friends, does not get on very fast at the beginning. They lived in a house too expensive for their moan?, and all their life wa.s ordered accordingly. Clever and rather ambitious, Gertrude was determined to leave no stone ■unturned, as she often said, to make her husband a successful man. She was a great believer in what she called social influence, which she uai alwavs dinning into his ears, and which was her excuse for spending a good deal of money on -entertaining a lot of people in whom he did not take the- slightest interest, and whose company bored him. Larmer was naturally a man of simple tastes, fond of books and 6tudy, and extremely fond of his own people and his old friends. But, unfortunately, his wife thought that it would be for his social benefit to cut him off from them; md,' being a peaceable- per.-on, he had submitted to a good, many changes, ef which he did not Teally approve. He felt disappointed about liis aunt, however, and the thought troubled him sojourn all that- day that he left his ofEcc in Clifford's Inn a couple of hours earlier than

usual that afternoon, and" took a. train over to the Surrey sido for the purpose of paying the old lady a visit. Now, th'o Larmers lived at Hampstead, th<r most oxpensivo suburb in*the world, and a place eo pretentious and aggressively rich that Larmor hated it with his whole soul. He would have enjoyed a house in old Hampstead among-the trees and lanes, where thero is still preserved some, flavor of tho old-Jashkmed simpler life; but Mrs George had no sympathy with Ms feelings in the matter. It was the row, rioh, and sometimes vulgar Hampstead for which her soul yearned, and to wboso pretentiousness she contributed her share. Larmcr could not help thinking, as he walked from the station up the pleasant highway to Cambcrwell Grove, where tho old lady lived, that though it might bo quite hopeless as a place of residence for a. young and risiug lawyer, vide Gertrude, .it was a pleasant, old-world place, where people could be very liappv, and have, perhaps, fewer cares. Miss Priscilla, Hackett had ln-ed in the same small old house, eet well back in a narrow but wonderfully pleasant London garden, for quito fifty years. She bad always let off. a part of her house, and had even offered it to George, her rtph.yw, at. the time of his marriage. But her offer had been scorned by his future wife, for which Miss Hackett had really never forgiven her. Miss Hackett occupied the second floor of tho house, queer, low, oldfashioned rooms, with the festooned paper of fiftv years ago upon the walls, and full of lovely old furniture which was the one ]>osscssibn Larmcr envied her. Gertrude's taste, however, did not lie in that direction, and their drawing room at Hampstead was furnished in what is called modern Chippendale, a frightful travesty of the honored name, belonging to no particular period, and of which no really cultivated taste could approve. Miss Hackett s was the real thing— spindle-legged tables and a bow-fronted sideboard, and astrajght row of ladder-back chairs. Miss Hackett accorded well with Iter quaint surroundings; dress and everything corresponded. She was now about sixty years of age, tall and bonv, with a severe cast of countenance, and a- most unpromising expression. She was certainly not. a general favorite; she was too observant of people's httio faults, and never failed to express her true opinion with tho greatest candor, Sho appeared genuinely pleased, however to sec her nephew, and promptly offered him a cup of tea. ... '• Whv didn't Gertrude come with you, George? Do you know sho has.not been in this house for eighteen months?" '■ Sho's a good deal occupied. Aunt Pnscilla. Babv takes up a lot of her time. •'I suppose so. Her time's easily failed up, it is," she said, with a sniff. " Well, what day will it be convenient for mo to come?" , Sho kept her keen eye fixed on her nephew's face, and she observed him flinch. "Well, vou sec. Aunt Pris.. I'm very sorry, but'it seems that Gertrude has invited a lot of her own friends, and you know our house isn't very big." ' "It's high enough rented," grunted the old ladv. " But go on." "Gertrude "would' be very pleased, uu *- " , , , ~. "No she wouldn't. George; you re telling me a lie. and vou know it," cried tho old ladv with that frightful severity of aspect which, as a lad. George Larmcr had been terrified at, and which could still hold him in awe. He did not sav another word, and when he did speak ho "left her in no doubt. For after all -what was the use of trying to deceive tho old ladv? Her eyes were much too sharp ; it was far better to own up. ••Gertrude doesn't want me. Can't you own up honestly. George? I wouldn't think any the less ofyou for it. Bless you, Id never blame you." "Well, vou know, I hope, that if it dcperded on me, Aunt Pris., you could live with us altogether," lie said, " Ind I'm most grateful for all you did for me. when I w;is a boy. Many's tho pleasant dav I've had in this house." " Why did vou marry that giddy butterflv. George Larmer? l"told you at tho time she'd lead you a dance, and she has. But what I do "want to know is why you cant bo master in your owl house?" Tt was a question Larmer had somcijmes asked himself, but to which ho had never fonnd anv solution. >t '•Seen Judy and Tom latoly, George. _ "Yes; I saw Judv yesterday. 1 hey re muddling along in tW. same.old way, as hard-up-"as thev can be. I really dont know how thev can live as they do. and yet teem so happy. Such an existence would kill mo in a week." ••Tbcv'rc happv. vou're not, snapped the old"ladv. " I" tell vou their hearts aro in the right places, and they .always have a bite to spare for other people. 1 think Judv's a poor manager: the way she flings the little money about makes my hair stand on end almost", but she's -a good sort, is Judy—a thorough gocd sort, wortn ten of vour fine Gertrudes." * " Gcrtrvd." is a very clover woman, and vou don't do her justice. Aunt Pris., because vnu don't understand her." >-ls"tlvers iuivthing to understand?" quoth the old ladv brusquely. "She's a. peacock, -who knows bow .to spread out her fine feathers, that's all: but I'm soxry lor vou. George Larmcr, I am-indeed." ' •• 1 manage to exist, Aunt Pris. But don't bear us any grudge.: come along another time, and spend a week-end with us, won't vou?" "Xo*. and that- I won't. George Larmer, not until your wife conies here m a. proper spirit and"apologises, and Jiks me lo come with her own mouth. I may be poor and uninteresting—•impossible' T heard she had called me—but I've got a little pride leu. and I won't be trampled on by her. George discreetly held his peace. He t . uv that the breach was very bad. and that tlw old lady would need a lot of ]«cifvim' to get her round again. ' "Well. I'm sarrv, but 1 can't go back on Kerne, altogether,' vou know, Aunt Pris. Most men liavc to take on therr wife's friends and relations when thry marry, and let their own go." '• To the wall." suggested Miss Hacken,, nursing up her lips. " Well, it's all right; Tin not complaining. It's the fate of the old, and tho poor, and the uninteresting to go to the iva.ll. Larmcr pondeTed these words all tlie. way homo, and was rendered uncomfortable by them, but he did not mention to his wife that he had been to Camberweil, or say another word about tho projected visit. She had quickly banished it from her mind, which was full of many more interesting themes than the lonely old woman whom nobodv liked. She did not see why, becai'se Miss* Hackett should happen to bo her husband's aunt, she should be culled upon to endure her in the house and occasion remark among her fine friends. To lu'..ve her for Christmas week simply meant that it would be completely spoiled, therelore Miss Hackett must be. declined. She was declined, and tliero was an end of it. Mrs George was a little troubled on her own account just then, because her accounts showed her that she was far exceeding the sum allowed by her_ husbarid for household expenses. He gave her tho uttermost farthing he could afford, and trusted her implicitly. But sl>e owed a good deal of money in Hampstead; liad he known liow mean he would have been very angrv. She knit her brows over her tradesmen's books, and biwsirdljr re!soW«d that after Christmas was over, and the •little dinner given on which she had set her heart., she must try to retrench and put bv something each week to pay off her debtsT Bat then she must, have a new frock for the party, And several things required for the adornment of her table. Then the professed cook, with all her extravagant ideas, must be allowed carteblanch e in tho kitchen, if the dinner was to bo a. success, as woll as a surprise, to tho pretentious guests for whom it was prepared. Altogether Mrs George's mind and hands wero too full to permit her to worry long . over the disappointment inflicted on her husband's aunt, who was only a poor relation' aftyUiow, and not worth considering. Nevertheless, the. old lady was left in ai extremely bitter mood. She was .veryfond "of her nephew George, and had been proud of him, too. But he was. gradually being weaned away from hor, and absorbed by h j: i wife's relations, who did not think -her good enough for their society. . That night she laid a little plot, for the purpose of discovering, whether she had a real friend in the whole connection. She. wrote a letter to the person alluded to as Ju.dy. Offering a visit-pn.juscise!y the .suae

terms as sho had offered in'her letter to George. Judy,' otherwise, Mrs Tom Walford, was the wifo of a city cashier, and Larmer's sister, and lived in Hampstead, though not in quite tho samo latitude as her brother. The Walfords occupied a little house far down the hill near tho Kilburn high road/between which-and th© higher slopes there is a great gulf fixed. But Judy was very happy in her .little jerry-built house, with her kind husband and her three little children, whom she adored. They were not well off, and frankly Judy was a thoroughly bad manager, and could never comprehend the difference between profit and loss.. But her lovely disposition .and her merry snrilo made up for other shortcomings, and Tom, an expert at figures himself, helped her to keep the household bark off the rocks. Judy was not'fond of Aunt Priscilla Hackett either, but she was sorry for her, and though she pulled a long face when the letter came that ■ morning, she passed it over to Tom without a single gramme. "A Christinas box, dear, in tho shape of Aunt Priscilla Hackett," , Tom read the letter through, and looked across inquiringly at his wife. "I'vo no objection, dear. Sho won t worry mo. The question is whether you will be able to endure a week of it. Seems to me you've enough to do with the babies. And site says she's not very well. H she needs anv nursing I think I ought to say ''No.'" " ' . , ■ " Oh, sho won't need any nursing, dear. \unt Priscilla is the sort of woman who will die on her feet. But I think I ought to tell you she invited herself to Georges first. I met Gertie yesterday, and she told me. But they won't have her, Gertie has quite made up her mind." " She tried the rich relations first, en, Jud ** ? " -a J "They're not rich; they only pretend to bo; and they're jolly miserable—not half as happy as wo are,' said Judy, as sho pushed an adorable little curl behind hor pink ear. "Of course she's George s aunt, not Gertie's, which makes a difference. I think, if vou don't mind, wo 11 let the poor old thing come, and try to make her Christmas as happy as possible, bho must be almost seventy, and she cant m the very nature of things see many more. "All right, little woman, but not a day longer than a week." Judy laughed. " I shall make her help with tho babies. She's terrified at them, but she'll havo to get used to them. I shall have to do a spring cleaning between now and Saturday We'll let her como on Saturday, Tom, and-stay till the Monday week, so that sho won't think we grudge her the week. But. oh, she has such sharp eyes!. Let's take her to the theatre one night, and dine first at ono of those funny UtUo Italian restaurants; I'd like to heather comments on the food and the people. Walford glanced across at his wifes sweet, bright face with a sudden rush of affection. , , , j " You are a good little soul, Judy, and no mistake, to think of all a poor old woman whom nobody likes." " Poor old Aunt Pris, she was born disagreeable, and that must be positively dreadful," said Judv. "I say. Tom, Gertie's going to have a gorgeous dinner partv next week. No. she didn't teU me; Mrs'Warcham told me—thrco weekr invitation. Wo must take Aunt Priscilla out that very night, so as to prevent me thinking about it, and" getting mad. Gerties going verv strong, isn't she t" "\ bit" too strong, dear, you take my word for it. H I were in George's place I'd have a very uneasy mind." "Well, I must go to tho precious babies. Good-bye, darling, and thank you for being so sweet about Aunt Priscilla. I'll write a nice letter to her, and tell her she can como on Saturday." . "If you like I'll call in this evening, before I come home, and tell her. I'll have a short day at the office, and no doubt tho old ladv would take it kindly." "I'm" sure she would, though she has never approved of us somehow," said Judy, with a sigh. , So it came to pass that that very evening Aunt Priscilla had another visitor, in the shape of her nephew by marriage, Tom Walford. T " Don't look alarmed, Miss Hackett. 1 only looked in to save Judy writing. Well bo "delighted to see you on Saturday, for tho week's visit, or longer if you like You know we're simple, plain folks, out you're welcome to the best we havo to give." , Miss Hackett suddenly blew her nose with a trumpet-like sound, and for a moment seemed unable to answer. "Von- good of you and Judy, I am sure." she said at "last. "I don't fancy Christmas all alone this year, somehow — I don't know why. I've had a good many of them, and I'd like to be in a family house jest for once." "All right, Miss Hackett. you come along to Priory road, and we'll do our best. There's a" good deal of ' baby ' about generally, and the place is small, but we'll do our best to make you have a good time."

After he had gone Aunt Triscilla Hackett sat down and cried.

Tho next dav she went out on sundry shopping expeditions, and was not home till quite late in the afternoon. Tho day after that she packed her box. and arrived at Kilburn just after early dinner. Sho was very shabbily dressed, and her box, tui old-fashioned trunk which had done service for a lifetime, was regarded with some scorn by the small maid servant who helped tho cabman in with it. That damsel was rot. at all pleased at the thought of tho visitor, and when she saw tho " old party." as she called her, for whom her mistress had turned out of her own bedroom, she was amazed. Dulcibel. like many more persona in this world, judged persons and things by the outward eye. Miss Hackett was very quiet till day. When she saw the genuine pains that had been taken to make her welcome, she did not utter a word of thanks, but sho saw all the little preparations—oh. yes, every one —-even to the little bnnch of cheap yellow chrysanthemums on her dressing table.

" You shall have a real nice Christmas, Aunt Pris, if wo can give it to you ; and be sure and bo grateful to Tom, for he's a dear, and you've never done him justice." Miss Hackett sniifed, and answered never a woid, but Judy was used to her grumpy wavs, and took no notice. Very soon Aunt Priscilla settled herself into the ways of the house, and was surprisingly genth and kind, even condescending to keep the babies at times, and appearing grateful .foi every attention. They had quite small means, and there was no attempt to pretend otherwise, but tho food was plain and wholesome and always nicely put down, and it was a very .choerfnl and happy little home.

Miss Hackett had nothing to learn about Judy, who was her own niece; she, however, applied herself to a study of Walford, and was surprised to find what a fine fellow ho was.

" Money isn't everything, Judy." she said one day. ' : ' You've got a good husband ; you ought to be thankful for it." •' Bless you, I am thankful. Do you sec any signs of the other thing? I told you you didn't know Tom. He's never had a chance, Aunt Pris; but never mind, his I day -will come-.'* I Tho little party at the restaurant and theatre duly took place, and was the I Christmas treat for the grown-ups. They, all enjoyed it thoroughly, and at the theatre, where an al>surd farce was played, Aunt Pris langhed till she cried. Tom Insisted on driving them home in a fourwheoler, with -which grave extravagance the day closed. " She isn't half a bad sort, v.lve. old girl, wl>en you jget her thawed out," observed Tom, as they were getting to bed very late. " But she's breaking up. dear. She'll never seo another Christmas." During the week of her visit, they saw nothing of the Larmers, Mies Hacke'tt declining to pay even a conventional call. Judy therefore did not hear how the party went off, though Tom reported one- day that, theia was 'something the matter with George, He had met him one day, but was uhablo to get a word out of him. Miss Hackett's visit was prolonged to the second week, and when _at last she left to return to Cnmberwell, she had promised to come back.soon. Judy saw her go with quite a. real regret, and said to her husband the same night that they might concider liaving her altogether, if she would contribute a little. She knew hex to hej

•very' poor arid now that sbe> -was-getting •old and tail she felt very sorry 1 for*-her. So'that, night these two'kind soute/:who had go Utile of Una world's goods and so much of the miik of homoa lovp in their hearte, concocted a letter to ; the old.;, lady settiog forth their proposal. It was done in perfect, singleness of heart, and without a thought of any material gain, and this Mies Hackett knew right well. Th© letter .made her verv happy, however, and. she put it inside, the bosom of her dress, and carried it there long after she had answered it. She replied ; thanking thenx fox it, but explained that she felt it would bo an unwise step for them all. and that an old woman like her,, who had lived tho.solitary life bo long, had better contimio it. So no more was said about it, but they asked her to come on Sunday as often as she oared, and it became a regular inst'tution. Sen th© year wot* on until Easter came. Judy very much wanted a little change to the seaside for herself and the children, but there was no money. She spoke of it. quite freely, to Aunt Pnsciila, who seemed to have developed of late wonderful powers of sympathy. "We'll manage it, my dear, somehow. I'll find a way," she eaid when ehe bade her good-night. They never wrote in the week, for there was no necessity ; but next Sunday Aunt Priscilla did xKpfc turn up as usual. " ' *TII pop over and see if there anything the matter with tho old lady," said Tom. after tlie early dinner. - "But, dear, we promised. to go to George's to tea," " I don't want to go. You can make my excuses, and tell theiii I've gone to Camberwell." He was verv late in coming back, a.nd directly Judy saw him at the door, where she was watcliing for him after putting the babies to bed, ehe knew that something had happened. "She's ill, Tom." " Worse than that. She died laat night in her sleep, dear. Don't take on.. It wan quite easy ami painless for her, and she looks like a child. Aren't you very glad we were able to show her a little kindness ?"

" Oh, yes," cried Judy through her tears. "And only this afternoon Gertie—-you know her horrid sneering way—was asking whatever we got out of it. I am eo sorry for George, Tom; Gertie's such a hard woman. I'm sure he's not very happy." ".I don't know about that. I know I felt jolly thankful, littlo woman, when I looked at her to-night and thought we had tried to give her a good Christmas." Thev talked a good deal about tho.old ladv that night, but honestly it did nob occur to them that they might benefit Tn any wav bv her death. She had just enough, "they understood, to keep her alive, and there nad never been a suggestion of wealth in tho family. "' Next day. at his place of business, Walford received a communication from a- firm of lawyers in Clifford's Inn, requesting hun to call at hie earliest convenience. He had no difficulty in getting leave for an hour, and betook bimrelf tlicre with considerable apprehension. The idea, of any good luck did not occur to him. It happened that George Larmer, whose office wiis also in CHffoTd's Inn, was coming across the square, when he met Tom en 1 is way out. "I've just been at your place, George," said Walford, a trifle*unsteadily. "Yes; auytiling up, old chap?" " Something very queer has happened. Of course, you've heard that Miss Hackett died yesterday." Larmer looked shocked. "Never heard a word! Has she been

in?" , "No; she died suddenly— in her .sleep, in fact. Didn't come to.us as usual yostCTdav, and I went over in the afternoon to see what was wrong. I daresay Judy mentioned it when she was at your place. It's her lawyers I've just ;been -at." " She couldn't, have anything, I suppose? Ie there enough to'bury her?" Walford. stared, and gave, a curious little laugh. "I can't believe it's true what theyve just told me—Messrs Payne, her lawyers. I daresay you know them." "What is it?" asked Larmer, and a sud-. den qualm of. apprehension seized him." " Everything's left to Judy." " What does everything mean? Tho few 6tieks of furniture, I suppose, and' the Camberwell house. I always understood it was mortgaged to tho hilt.'.' "There's the house. George, and other property further up the hill, and sixteen thousand pounds in consols." " Left to Judy! Heavens! it can't be true! Tho old lady never had the money." "She had it, and Judy has got it now,"* said Walford, unsteadily. " But I must go: I've been away too long. I'll come up this evening, and we can talk it over." George Larmer's face was grey as he turned to mount the narrow stairs to his office door. He wondered what his wife would Kl-V.

But ho was obliged to admit to hiniseli in the midst of his deep discomfiture that the old lady had dono well, and that they had only received their just reward.