Mrs. March’s Revenge
by
“I declare, it is a real fall day,” said Mrs. Stapp, dropping into a chair with a sigh of relief as Mrs. March ushered her into the cosy little sitting-room. “The wind would chill the marrow in your bones; winter’ll be here before you know it.”
“That’s so,” assented Mrs. March, bustling about to stir up the fire. “But I don’t know as I mind it at all. Winter is real pleasant when it does come, but I must say, I don’t fancy these betwixt-and-between days much. Sit up to the fire, Theodosia. You look real blue.”
“I feel so too. Lawful heart, but this is comfort. This chimney-corner of yours, Anna, is the cosiest spot in the world.”
“When did you get home from Maitland?” asked Mrs. March. “Did you have a pleasant time? And how did you leave Emily and the children?”
Mrs. Stapp took this trio of interrogations in calm detail.
“I came home Saturday,” she said, as she unrolled her knitting. “Nice wet day it was too! And as for my visit, yes, I enjoyed myself pretty, well, not but what I worried over Peter’s rheumatism a good deal. Emily is well, and the children ought to be, for such rampageous young ones I never saw! Emily can’t do no more with them than an old hen with a brood of ducks. But, lawful heart, Anna, don’t mind about my little affairs! The news Peter had for me about you when I got home fairly took my breath. He came down to the garden gate to shout it before I was out of the wagon. I couldn’t believe but what he was joking at first. You should have seen Peter. He had an old red shawl tied round his rheumatic shoulder, and he was waving his arms like a crazy man. I declare, I thought the chimney was afire! Theodosia, Theodosia!’ he shouted. ‘Anna March has had a fortune left her by her brother in Australy, and she’s bought the old Carroll place, and is going to move up there!’ That was his salute when I got home. I’d have been over before this to hear all about it, but things were at such sixes and sevens in the house that I couldn’t go visiting until I’d straightened them out a bit. Peter’s real neat, as men go, but, lawful heart, such a mess as he makes of housekeeping! I didn’t know you had a brother living.”
“No more did I, Theodosia. I thought, as everyone else did, that poor Charles was at the bottom of the sea forty years ago. It’s that long since he ran away from home. He had a quarrel with Father, and he was always dreadful high-spirited. He went to sea, and we heard that he had sailed for England in the Helen Ray. She was never heard of after, and we all supposed that my poor brother had perished with her. And four weeks ago I got a letter from a firm of lawyers in Melbourne, Australia, saying that my brother, Charles Bennett, had died and left all his fortune to me. I couldn’t believe it at first, but they sent me some things of his that he had when he left home, and there was an old picture of myself among them with my name written on it in my own hand, so then I knew there was no mistake. But whether Charles did sail in the Helen Ray, or if he did, how he escaped from her and got to Australia, I don’t know, and it isn’t likely I ever will.”
“Well, of all wonderful things!” commented Mrs. Stapp.
“I was glad to hear that I was heir to so much money,” said Mrs. March firmly. “At first I felt as if it were awful of me to be glad when it came to me by my brother’s death. But I mourned for poor Charles forty years ago, and I can’t sense that he has only just died. Not but what I’d rather have seen him come home alive than have all the money in the world, but it has come about otherwise, and as the money is lawfully mine, I may as well feel pleased about it.”