CHAPTER X

SQUIRE LEECH IS BAFFLED

Tuesday arrived, but as yet the check from Mr. Spencer had not been

received.

“Never mind, mother,” said Herbert, “you will get it before the end of

the week.”

“But I shall need it to pay the interest to Squire Leech. He will call

for it today.”

“How much it is?”

“Twenty-two dollars and a half.”

“You forget the gold I handed you last week.”

“I don't like to use it, Herbert; I want you to use it for yourself.”

“I am as much interested in paying the interest as you, mother. Don't I

occupy the house?”

Seeing that Herbert was in earnest, Mrs. Carter overcame her scruples,

and laid aside enough of the money to make up the amount required.

About five minutes of twelve Squire Leech was seen advancing to the

front door with slow, pompous steps.

“There he comes, mother!” said Herbert. “I'll open the door.”

“Is your mother at home, Herbert?” asked the squire, in a dignified

tone.

“Yes, sir. Won't you walk in?”

“Ahem, yes! I think I will. I have a little matter of business with

her.”

Squire Leech entered the small sitting room, which seemed uncomfortably

full when he was in it--not on account of his size, but because he

seemed so swollen with a sense of his own importance as to convey the

idea that he was cramped for space--very much like an owl in the cage of

a canary.

“Good morning, Squire Leech,” said the widow.

“Good morning, ma'am. I apprehend you know my errand.”

“I suppose you come for the interest, Squire Leech.”

“You are quite right. Of course you are prepared to pay it.”

Though the squire said “of course,” he by no means expected that it

would be ready, nor, for reasons which we know, did he desire it. He was

rather discomfited, therefore, when Mrs. Carter said: “Did you bring a

receipt with you, squire?”

“A receipt in full?” queried the great man.

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you prepared to pay the whole today?”

“Yes, sir.”

This ought to have been gratifying intelligence, but it was not. The

squire looked quite crestfallen.

“No, I didn't bring a receipt,” he said, slowly.

“I'll bring writing materials,” said Herbert, promptly.

He left the room, but appeared almost instantly with pen, ink, and

paper.

The squire sat down to the table with a disappointed air, and slowly

wrote the required document.

“He seems sorry to receive the money,” thought Herbert, who was quick in

reading the faces of others. “I wonder why?” and he gazed at the visitor

in some perplexity.

The squire received the money, and handed the widow the receipt. Still

he did not seem inclined to go. He was thinking how to broach the

subject of selling the house.

“Mrs. Carter,” he began, “forty-five dollars a year seems a good deal

for you to pay.”

“Yes, it is considerable,” said the widow, surprised. Could it be that

he intended to reduce the interest? That did not seem like him.

“For one in your circumstances I mean, of course. You've got to earn

your own living, and your son's.”

“Herbert does his share,” said the mother. “When he is older I shall

feel quite easy.”

“But that time is a good way off. I've been thinking of your case,

Mrs. Carter, and as a man of business I see my way clear to offer you a

little advice.”

“I shall be thankful for any advice, squire,” said the widow, meekly.

“Of course your judgment in business matters is much better than mine.”

Herbert listened to this conversation with eager interest. What could

the squire mean to advise?

“I've been thinking,” said the squire, deliberately, “that it would be a

good plan for you to sell this house.”

“To sell it!” repeated Mrs. Carter, in surprise. “But where could I

live?”

“You might hire a couple of rooms for yourself and Herbert.”

“I don't see how mother would gain anything,” interrupted Herbert. “She

would have to pay rent.”

“Very true, but she would get some money down for the house, over and

above the mortgage.”

“I don't know as anybody would want to buy it,” said Mrs. Carter.

“I would take it off your hands, simply to oblige you,” said the squire,

with an air of extraordinary consideration. “I don't know that it would

be of any particular use to me. I might not get a tenant. Still, I am

better able to take the risk than you are to keep it.”

“How much would you be willing to pay for it?” asked Herbert, who

somehow suspected that the squire was more selfish than benevolent in

the plan he had broached.

“Why,” said Squire Leech, assuming a meditative look, “over and above

the mortgage, I would be willing to pay three hundred dollars cash.”

“That would make the value of the place only ten hundred and fifty

dollars,” said Herbert.

“Well, you don't consider it worth any more than that do you?”

“My husband considered it worth fifteen hundred dollars,” said the

widow. “It cost him that.”

The squire laughed heartily. “Really, my dear madam, that is utterly

preposterous. Fifteen hundred dollars! Why, that is ridiculous.”

“It cost that,” said Herbert, sturdily.

“I very much doubt it,” said the squire. “I don't believe it cost a cent

over twelve hundred dollars.”

“I have my husband's papers to show that it cost fifteen hundred,” said

the widow.

“Then all I have to say is, he was outrageously cheated,” said the

squire. “I believe I know as much about real estate as any man in town,”

he proceeded, pompously. “Indeed, I own more than any other man. I

assure you, on my word, I have offered you a very good price.”

“I would rather not sell,” said the widow, gently, but decidedly.

“I will increase my offer to eleven hundred, including the mortgage,”

said the squire, who saw the prize slipping through his fingers, and

felt it necessary to bid higher. “Eleven hundred dollars. That's three

hundred and fifty dollars cash!”

“Mother, I am sure you won't think of selling for any such sum,”

expostulated Herbert.

“No,” said his mother, “I don't want to sell.”

“You stand very much in your own light, ma'am,” said the squire,

impatiently; “and you, Herbert, are too young to offer any advice on

such a subject.”

“I don't see why,” said Herbert, independently. “I ought to feel

interested in such a matter.

“You are a boy, and have no judgment. Boys of your age should be seen

and not heard,” said the squire, sternly.

“I can see what is best for my mother's interest,” said Herbert.

“I decline to discuss the matter with you. I consider your interference

impertinent,” said the squire, becoming angry.

“Oh, Herbert!” said his mother, who was a little in awe of the great man

of the village, “be respectful to Squire Leech.”

“I mean to be,” said Herbert, “but I'm sure he's wrong in thinking I

have nothing to do with this matter.”

“Reflect again, Mrs. Carter,” persisted the squire, “of the advantages

of my proposal. Think how comfortable you would feel in knowing that you

had three hundred and fifty dollars on interest in the savings bank.

I admit that I may not offer you quite as much as the place cost, but

houses never fetch their first cost. I've made you a very fair offer,

ma'am, very fair.”

“I won't say anything as to that, Squire Leech, but this house my poor

husband built--in this house I have passed many happy years--and while

we can keep it, Herbert and I, we will. There is no other place in town

that would seem so much like home.”

“This is all very sentimental, ma'am; but, permit me to say, very

ridiculous,” said the impatient squire, rising to go. “I'll give you

time to think over what I have said, and I'll call again.”

“I'll have that place yet,” he muttered to himself, as he left the

cottage. “I won't be balked by an obstinate woman and an impertinent

boy.”

Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son · 第 10 / 36 章