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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