Chinese -- England -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
"Quite right," replied Forge not at all disconcerted, "you keep out of
these Chinese affairs. There's danger in them."
"Connected with the fan?" demanded Olivia.
"Yes," said Forge slowly, "connected with the fan."
Olivia being a woman and curious, would have asked further questions, to
which Dr. Forge might have hesitated to reply, but that Miss Pewsey
called her dear Theophilus to her side. The will was about to be read
and Miss Pewsey--so she said--wanted support. Forge crossed to the
withered little shrimp he had chosen, heaven knows why, for his wife and
sat down. The lawyer opened an envelope and took out a rustling
parchment. Just as he cleared his throat, the door opened and the maid
announced "Mr. Ainsleigh."
Miss Pewsey glared, and no one appeared glad to see him, Lady Jabe least
of all, as she knew he was a powerful rival to Chris. But Rupert bowed
to the company in silence, took no notice of their cold looks, and
walked over to where Olivia sat, a little apart. He seated himself
beside her. The girl smiled a little faintly, and then gazed straight
before her. No one made any remark, as Pastor was beginning to read the
will.
Miss Wharf, it appeared, died worth one thousand a year and the house
and furniture and land of Ivy Lodge. Five hundred a year went to a
distant relative, as Miss Wharf was unable to leave it to anyone else,
by reason of only having a life interest in this amount. Then a few
personal bequests were left to Lady Jabe, to Chris Walker, and to some
other friends. Ivy Lodge, and the furniture, and the land it was built
on, and the remaining five hundred a year was left to--Lavinia Pewsey.
When the name was mentioned the little old maid quivered, and Olivia,
pale and quiet, rose to her feet. In a moment Miss Pewsey, prepared for
battle, was on her feet also, and the two women looked at one another.
"You knew of this will," said Olivia quietly.
"No," replied Miss Pewsey.
"You did. And all your paying court to me was a blind, so that I might
not suspect Aunt Sophia had left the money to you."
"Dearest Sophia left the money to whom she chose," said Miss Pewsey, in
a sharp, shrill voice, "do you mean to say, that I exercised any undue
influence over her?"
"I say nothing," was Olivia's reply: "but hard on me as my aunt was, I
do not think she would have left me penniless, while the money which
belonged to my family goes to a perfect stranger."
"A stranger," cried Miss Pewsey tossing her head, "am I a stranger,
indeed? I was hand and glove with dear Sophia when we were at school
together. I gave up my life to her----"
"And you have got your reward," said Olivia bitterly.
"As you say," retorted Miss Pewsey, tossing her head again, "but the
will is in order, and I had nothing to do with the making of it. I
appeal to Mr. Pastor."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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