his circumstances, for he had never taken any particular pains to
court Mrs. Bertie, and she had been so angry at him for his failure,
that he supposed himself to have lost her favor forever. He could
hardly realize what had happened; and it was not till Mr. Simonton,
having finished the will, begged to congratulate him upon his good
fortune, that he felt himself to be awake. He returned the grasp of Mr.
Simonton's hand warmly; but if he had known how much he was indebted to
the good little man's representations, he would have returned it more
warmly still.
Mr. and Mrs. Coles were still more astonished than their cousin. Mr.
Coles, indeed, could hardly believe his ears, and asked to look at
the will, which Mr. Simonton politely put into his hands, with the
gratifying remark that he would find it perfectly formal and correct.
"Well, Fletcher," he said, bitterly enough, but trying to smile, "you
have played your cards cleverly, I must allow, and won the game. I
believe you understood the old lady better than I did, after all."
"It may be well for those to play such a game who can stoop to it,"
said Mrs. Coles, who was as angry as her husband, and had less
prudence. "For my part, I should be ashamed of it."
"Cousin Anna," said Mr. Fletcher calmly, "do not say any thing which
you will afterwards be sorry for. You are angry now, and not in a
condition to weigh your words. You both know very well that I never
courted Aunt Sally's favor by subserviency, though I always intended to
treat her with all the respect due to her age and our relationship. No
one can be more surprised than myself at the disposition she has made
of her property, with which, let me remind you, she had a perfect right
to do as she pleased."
Meantime Ethel and Abby were talking on the sofa.
"You are quite an heiress now, Ethel," said Abby, who, childlike, was
perfectly satisfied with the prospect of possessing all Aunt Sally's
cashmere shawls and diamonds. "Only think how funny it will seem to own
a house, and such a large one too!"
"It seems very strange," said Ethel. "I cannot feel right about it
somehow. One minute I feel pleased to think we are going to be well off
again, and the next it seems wicked to be glad of any thing that comes
from Aunt Sally's dying. I am sure I will always take care of you, dear
Fido," she continued, addressing the dog, and hugging him in her arms,
"and of poor old Polly, too. I hope you will both live to be fifty
years old."
"I am glad she did not leave him to me, for I don't like dogs much,"
said Abby; "not but that I would have taken as good care of him as I
could. Well, Ethel, I am very glad that your father has the money, for
now we shall be alike again. It always made me feel mean to be dressed
up myself and have every thing that I wanted, while you were wearing
all your old things, and living in that little stuck-up house."
So spoke Abby, whose naturally kind and generous disposition had not
been spoiled by the worldly influences to which she had been subjected,
and who was perhaps too young to understand exactly what she had lost
by her cousin's gain.
It was with no small pleasure that the Fletcher family took possession
of their new abode, where every thing was kept as far as possible
unaltered, out of respect to Aunt Sally's memory. Mrs. Coles, was very
ready to be on friendly terms with her cousins again, after the first
heat of her disappointment had passed away, advised them to have the
house papered, or at least to cover up that hideous old brown India
paper in the dining room.
But Mrs. Fletcher only smiled and said the house was Ethel's, and Ethel
cherished a great admiration for the processions of elephants and
long-tailed Chinamen, and Chinese ladies drinking tea out of thimbles,
with their little fingers turned up in the air, and would not hear of
their being covered: so every thing remained just as it had been for
thirty years past.
Fido mourned for his mistress a long time, but he gradually became
attached to his new friends, especially to Ethel, who occupied her
aunt's bed-room, and seems likely to live to a good old age.
The first use Mr. Fletcher made of his means was to pay off all his
remaining debts, after which he felt himself a free man once more.
It was with a wonderful satisfaction that when the last receipt was
signed, he walked into a bookstore and gave an order for new books.
"Here come the books, mother!" said Ethel laughing, as the large
package made its appearance. "Father is going back to his old ways, and
you will soon be saying again—'I wish there was one table in the house,
that was not covered three deep with books.' After all, mother, I feel
rather sorry to leave the little house. It seems as if I had learned
more there than I ever knew in all my life before."
"I have no doubt of that, my dear Ethel," replied her mother.
"Experience is a hard teacher, but her lessons are worth all they cost.
I only hope we shall none of us forget in prosperity the lessons we
learned in adversity, nor to thank God for all His mercies to us. We
may truly say with the Psalmist: 'We went through fire and through
water: but Thou broughtest us out into a wealthy place.'"
[Illustration]