Helen Grant's Schooldays Part 40

"I am glad you take it philosophically," and he gave a faint smile.

"When she was about sixty-five she put nearly all her money in an annuity so she would have no further care. She told me that she had no near relatives."

"That was true enough."

"So she lived very handsomely at times, at others quite plainly. She placed in my hands a sum amply sufficient for her burial, which has never been disturbed. I collected and paid over her annuity. There may be a few thousands beside. The income, you know, stopped with her death.

So there will be nothing for the heirs."

"I for one shall not complain. She paid generously for her _protege_, six months in advance. She sent for her and I was to take her over with me; calling on you in all business matters."

"Yes, she notified me. It was Mrs. Van Dorn's intention to keep this young girl with her the rest of her life. Her last letter to me was as buoyant as that of any young person. She was certainly wonderful--eighty-six in March. It seemed to me as if she might have lived to be a hundred. I am afraid the talk of that man Fenton did not do her any good."

"It is a great shock. I can hardly believe it."

"What friends has this girl, if any?"

"Oh, some relatives at a small town in a neighboring State, an uncle who has cared for her. She is a bright, ambitious girl, and I _do_ regret the death for her sake. I am glad there is someone she can turn to, but I think she has the courage to work her way up, with a helping hand now and then."

"And you do not know about this Mr. Fenton?"

"Nothing much. I once heard her say that after Mr. Van Dorn's death he applied to her for some money for business purposes and she refused. I think she was not favorably impressed with him."

"Well, there will not be much for anyone to have. I think this annuity was by her husband's advice, and it has saved her a good deal of care. I thought it best for you to know at once and I did want to learn how the girl was situated. Do you suppose she will be bitterly disappointed?"

"She will be very much shocked and grieved."

"It would have been the same if she had adopted her. She could have made no provision for her future."

"No," thoughtfully.

"And now I must take a night train back, as I am very busy. I will keep you informed as to matters."

"We sail on the 3d of July."

"The body will be here before that."

She walked down to the street with him; then took a rustic seat and considered Helen Grant's future in so far as she could, but every moment she felt more regret that her bright hopes should be so suddenly quenched. She resolved to say nothing at present until she had evolved a plan floating through her mind.

It was true Mrs. Van Dorn had not reached the period appointed by herself. She had felt sure of ninety years. There were times when she feared that nature was on the wane, but she still took excellent care of herself.

This Mr. Fenton had besieged her for some money in the spring and a liberal allowance in her will. As far as she could trace the relationship there were but two families who had any claim on her, and his was one. She had put him off with a sarcastic promise of taking her will into consideration, then her quick wit intervened.

"If I should die without a will you would share equally. I think I will let it go that way."

That was all the satisfaction he could get. She hoped never to see him again. But he had found her in Paris, and again importuned her. She had so much she could surely spare him a little now. She allowed herself the gratification then of explaining the annuity to him and that she meant to spend her income in each year. He flew into a pa.s.sion and called her some harsh names, when she had left him alone with a very curt dismissal. She had been more provoked than excited. There were some special reasons why she wished to attend this reception and she went.

Whether it might have been different or whether she had reached her allotted span, only G.o.d knew.

The next few days Mrs. Aldred took especial pains with Helen. She must be able to enter the graduating cla.s.s. Helen was delighted with the attention, and repaid it with earnest endeavor.

Mr. Castles sent word that Miss Gage had started with the body.

Helen had pa.s.sed most of her examinations when Mrs. Aldred very tenderly informed her of the sad news, and how almost incredulous she had been at first.

"Of course, this changes all the plans," she said, when she had given Helen time for her first anguish. "But I have been talking with Mrs.

Wiley, who is quite willing to take you for some of the younger cla.s.ses, a year or two years, and in that time you can graduate. It is best that you should have a diploma. You are very young yet, and will be more capable of facing the world at eighteen. I really have no fear for you, and am confident you will succeed."

"I cannot thank you sufficiently now," Helen answered. "I am bewildered.

May I be excused from dinner?"

"Yes, and anything you desire to-morrow. You have my warmest sympathy, and I feel that I do not want to lose sight of you in the years to come."

It was a sad night for Helen, a sad day following; indeed, it took all the joy out of the graduation exercises for her. Mrs. Wiley made her proffer and Helen accepted it.

"So you see we shall not be separated after all," she said to both Daisy and Miss Craven, and the latter began to weave some plans for the future that she would keep to herself until the time came. Ah, if she could repay Helen's kindnesses!

Miss Gage reached New York the first day of July. Most of the girls had dispersed from the school. Helen was to go to the city with Mrs.

Aldred's party.

The day before a telegram from Mrs. Dayton reached her, containing this astounding news:

"Your father has returned. You will find him staying with me."

Could it be true--after all these years?

Helen seemed to herself as one in a dream. Her sorrow for Mrs. Van Dorn had grown with every hour and she almost abhorred herself that she should ever have hesitated a moment about devoting her whole life to her benefactress, who had only asked for a few years. But this new claim!

She could not ignore it. How many times she had wished for his return!

But all these years he had made no sign, expressed no desire to know whether she were living or dead. The neglect stung her cruelly.

She had no time to consider this phase of affairs. She had about decided to accept Mrs. Wiley's offer. There would be home and training for another year, and she felt confident now that she could graduate. On the other hand, there would be clothes and small current expenses even with the strictest economy. She would be a young lady, and she shrank in dismay from all that implied; but now she was quite at sea. There was no one to "give the word," and pilot her through the windings.

She went to the city with Mrs. Aldred and Grace. The other voyagers were already there. The first business on hand was a visit to the lawyer's, where Miss Gage would meet them.

The story was substantially what the companion had written. Mrs. Van Dorn had gone out of life in that moment of time when she had felt confident of some years before her. She had been spared suffering and dread.

"When all expenses are met there may be a thousand or two thousand dollars," explained Mr. Castles. "Mr. Fenton insists upon calling for the strictest accounting, which he has a right to do, of course, and this means the small residue will be divided between you," bowing to Mrs. Aldred, "and himself. I suppose she thought she would have so little to divide it was not worth making a will. He insists the valuable jewels shall be sold. But here is one point in which I think you will bear me out in believing the law has no right over. Mrs. Van Dorn gave me each year a sum to be spent on Miss Grant. It was her desire, and a most excellent idea, I think," smiling vaguely, "that Miss Grant should not fall into extravagant habits. There was a small amount left over when she made the new allowance. This, I take it, belongs to Miss Helen Grant, and I propose to pay it over to her at once. It is a private matter."

"I agree with you perfectly," returned Mrs. Aldred, in an approving tone; glad, indeed, that it could be so. "I wish I dared double or quadruple it, but I have no right. This will be precious to you, Miss Grant, as the gift of your benefactress. I know it was in her heart to treat you as if you were a near relative, a granddaughter, as she said in a late letter."

Helen's eyes overflowed, but she could not trust her voice.

"It is a lovely remembrance," added Mrs. Aldred with much feeling. "And Helen is worthy of it."

The lawyer handed her the envelope, but she was too much moved to inspect its contents.

"Now, you and Miss Gage may take the ante-room, as I am certain that step prefigures Mr. Fenton," the lawyer announced.

Miss Gage had much to say to the young girl.

"I am so glad you wrote just that letter of grat.i.tude," she began. "I cannot describe Mrs. Van Dorn's delight to you. She was almost childish over it and read it again and again, and though she was not sentimental about keeping letters, I found this in a box of trinkets and have brought it back to you. She was not an effusive woman, but I think she counted a great deal on having your entire love. You see I was one of a family who have always been very dear to each other, and who clung together as few families do. In the autumn I was to go home, as she had found a most excellent maid, who was also quite a practised nurse. Mrs.