Dan.
Mr. Farwell smiled. He was having considerable fun out of the situation. However, it would not do to keep possibly profitable clients in suspense too long, so he broke the news he had journeyed from Boston to impart.
"She left you a great deal more than that," he said. "In the former will, her cousin, Mr. Percy Hungerford of Scarford, was the principal legatee. He was a favorite of hers, I believe, and she left the bulk of her property--some hundred and twenty thousand dollars in securities, and her estate at Scarford--to him. But last February it appears that he and she had a falling out. He--Mr. Hungerford--is, so I am told, a good deal of a sport--ahem! that is, he is a young gentleman of fashionable and expensive tastes, and he wrote his aunt, asking for money, rather frequently. The February letter reached her when she was grouchy--er--not well, I mean, and she changed her will, practically disinheriting him. Under the new will he receives twenty thousand dollars in cash. The balance--" Mr. Farwell, who, during this long statement, had interspersed legal dignity of term with an occasional lapse into youthful idiom, now spoke with impressive solemnity,--"the balance," he said, "one hundred thousand in money and securities, and the house at Scarford, which is valued, I believe, at thirty-five thousand more, she leaves to you, as her only other relative, Captain Dott. I am here to congratulate you and to offer you my services and those of the firm, should you desire legal advice."
Having sprung his surprise, Mr. Farwell leaned back in his chair to enjoy the effect of the explosion. The first effect appeared to be the complete stupefaction of his hearers. Those which followed were characteristic.
"My soul and body!" gasped Captain Dan. "I--I--my land of love! And only this mornin' I was scared I couldn't pay my store bills!"
"A hundred thousand dollars!" cried Serena. "And that beautiful house at Scarford! OURS! Oh! oh! oh!"
Mr. Farwell crossed his knees. "A very handsome little windfall," he observed, with condescension.
"We get a hundred thousand!" murmured the captain. "My! I wish Father was alive to know about it. But, say, it's kind of rough on that young Hungerford, after expectin' so much, ain't it now!"
"A hundred thousand!" breathed his wife, her hands clasped. "And that lovely house! Why, we could move to Scarford to-morrow if we wanted to! Yes, and live there! Oh--oh, Daniel! I--I don't know why I'm doing it, but I--I believe I'm going to cry."
Her husband rushed over to the couch and threw his arm about her shoulder.
"Go ahead, old lady," he commanded. "Cry, if you want to. I--I'm goin' to do SOMETHIN' darn ridiculous, myself!"
Thus it was that Fortune and Opportunity came to the Dott door, and it was the news of the visitation, distorted and exaggerated, which set all Trumet by the ears next day.
Azuba's clam fritters were neglected that noon, just as breakfast had been. Neither Captain Dan nor his wife had slept, and they could not eat. They pretended to, they even tried to, but one or the other was certain to break out with an exclamation or a wondering surmise, and the meal was, as the captain said, "all talk and no substantials." They had scarcely risen from the table when the doorbell rang.
Azuba heard it and made her entrance from the kitchen. She had remembered this time to shed the offending apron, but she carried it in her hand.
"I'm a-goin'," she declared; "I'm a-goin', soon's ever I can."
She started for the sitting-room, but the captain stepped in front of her.
"You stay right where you are," he ordered. "I'll answer that bell myself this time."
"Daniel," cried his wife, "what are you going to do?"
"Do? I'm goin' to head off some more fools, that's what I'm goin' to do. They shan't get in here to pester you to death with questions, not if I can help it."
"But, Daniel, you mustn't. You don't know who it may be."
"I don't care."
"Oh, dear me! What are you going to say? You mustn't insult people."
"I shan't insult 'em. I'll tell 'em--I'll tell 'em you're sick and can't see anybody."
"But I'm not sick."
"Then, I am," said Captain Dan. "They make me sick. Shut up, will you?" addressing the bell, which had rung the second time. "I'll come when I get ready."
He seemed to be quite ready that very moment. At all events he strode from the room, and his anxious wife and the flushed Azuba heard him tramping through the front hall.
"What--WHAT is he going to do?" faltered Serena; "or say?"
Azuba shook her head. "Land knows!" she exclaimed. "I ain't seen him this way since the weasel got into the hen-house. He went for THAT with the hoe-handle. And as for what he said! Well, don't talk to ME!"
But no riot or verbal explosion followed the opening of the door. The anxious listeners in the dining-room heard voices, but they were subdued ones. A moment later Captain Dan returned. He looked troubled.
"It's Barney Black and his wife," he answered, in a whisper. "I couldn't tell THEM to go to thunder. They're in the front room, waitin'. I suppose we'll have to see 'em, won't we?"
Mrs. Dott was hurriedly shaking the wrinkles out of her gown and patting her hair into presentable shape.
"See 'em!" she repeated. "Of course we'll see them. I declare! I think it's real kind of 'em to call. Daniel, do fix your necktie. It's way round under your ear."
They entered the parlor, Serena, outwardly calm, in the lead and her husband following, and tugging at the refractory tie.
Mrs. and Mr. Black--scanning them in the order of their importance--rose as they appeared. Mrs. Black was large and impressive, and gorgeous to view. She did not look her age. Her husband was not as tall as his wife, and did not look his height. Annette swept forward.
"Oh, my dear Mrs. Dott," she gushed, taking Serena's hand in her own gloved one. "We've just heard the news, Phelps and I, and we couldn't resist dropping in to congratulate you. Isn't it wonderful!"
Serena admitted that it was wonderful. "We can hardly believe it yet, ourselves," she said. "But it was real nice of you to come. Do sit down again, won't you? Daniel, get Mr. Black a chair."
Captain Dan and Mr. Black shook hands. "Sit down anywhere, Barney," said the former. "Anywhere but that rocker, I mean; that's got a squeak in the leg."
Mr. Black, who had headed for the rocker, changed his course and sank into an arm chair. The shudder with which his wife heard the word "Barney," and the glare with which Serena favored her husband, were entirely lost upon the latter.
"We had that rocker up in the attic till last month," he observed; "but Serena found out 'twas an antique, and antiques seem to be all the go now-a-days, though you do have to be careful of 'em. I suppose it's all right. We'll be antiques ourselves before many years, and we'll want folks to be careful of us. Hey? Ha! ha! ... Why, what's the matter, Serena?"
Mrs. Dott replied, rather sharply, that "nothing was the matter."
"The rocker isn't very strong," she explained, addressing Mrs. Black. "But it belonged to my great--that is, it has been in our family for a good many years and we think a great deal of it."
Mrs. Black condescendingly expressed her opinion that the rocker was a "dear."
"I love old-fashioned things," she said. "So does Mr. Black. Don't you, Phelps?"
"Yes," replied that gentleman. His love did not appear to be over-enthusiastic.
"But do tell us about your little legacy," went on the lady. "Of course we have heard all sorts of ridiculous stories, but we know better than to believe