Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son Read online

  CHAPTER II

  WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED

  Half an hour later, Herbert reentered the cottage, breathless withrunning.

  “Well, mother, what is it?” he asked.

  “Uncle Herbert is dead,” she answered.

  “When did he die?”

  “Yesterday morning. They wrote at once. The funeral is to take placeto-morrow afternoon, at three o’clock.”

  “Uncle Herbert was rich, wasn’t he, mother?”

  “Yes, he must have left nearly a hundred thousand dollars.”

  “What a pile of money!” said Herbert. “I wonder how a man feels when heis so rich. He ought to be happy.”

  “Riches don’t always bring happiness. Uncle Herbert was disappointed inearly life, and that seemed to spoil his career. He gave himself up tomoney-making, and succeeded in it; but he lived by himself and had fewsources of happiness.”

  “Then he had no family?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think he has left us anything, mother?” asked Herbert, withsomething of hope in his tone.

  “I am afraid not. If he had been disposed to do that he would have donesomething for us before. He knew that we were poor, and that a littleassistance would have been very acceptable. But he never offered it.Even when your father was sick for three months, and I wrote to him fora small loan, he refused, saying that we ought to have laid up money tofall back upon at such a time.”

  “I don’t see how a man can be so unfeeling. If he would only leave usa thousand dollars, how much good it would do us! We could pay up themortgage on the house, and have something left over. It wouldn’t havebeen much for him to do.”

  “Well, we won’t think too much about it,” said Mrs. Carter. “It willbe wisest, as probably we should be only preparing ourselves fordisappointment. Uncle had a right to do what he pleased with his own.”

  “Shall you go to the funeral, mother?”

  “I don’t see how I can,” said Mrs. Carter, slowly. “It is twenty milesoff, and I am very busy just now. Still one of us ought to go, if onlyto show respect to so near a relation. People would talk if we didn’t. Ithink, as you were named for your Uncle Herbert, I will let you go.”

  “If you think best, mother. I will walk, and that will save expense.”

  “It will be too much for you to take such a walk. You had better ride.”

  “No, mother, I am young and strong. I can walk well enough.”

  “But it must be twenty miles,” objected his mother.

  “The funeral doesn’t take place till three o’clock in the afternoon. Iwill get up bright and early, say at five o’clock. By nine I shall behalfway there.”

  “I am afraid it will be too much for you, Herbert,” said Mrs. Carter,irresolutely.

  “You don’t know how strong I am,” said Herbert; “I shan’t get tired soeasily as you think.”

  “But twenty miles is a long distance.”

  “I know that, but I shall take it easy. The stage fare is seventy-fivecents, and it’s a good way to save it. I wish somebody would offer meseventy-five cents for every twenty miles I would walk. I’d take it upas a profession.”

  “I am afraid I could earn little that way. I never was a good walker.” “You’re a woman,” said Herbert, patronizingly. “Women are not expectedto be good walkers.”

  “Some are. I remember my Aunt Jane would take walks of five and sixmiles, and think nothing of it.”

  “I guess I could match her in walking,” said Herbert, confidently. “Isshe alive?”

  “No, she died three years since.”

  “Perhaps I take after her, then.”

  “You don’t take after me, I am sure of that. I think, Herbert, you hadbetter take seventy-five cents with you, so that if you get very tiredwith your walk over, you can come back by stage.”

  “All right, mother; I’ll take the money, but I shall be sure not to needit.”

  “It is best to be prepared for emergencies, Herbert.”

  “If I am going to-morrow morning, I must split up enough wood to lastyou while I am gone.”

  “I am afraid you will tire yourself. I think I can get along with whatwood there is already split.”

  “Oh, don’t be afraid for me. You’ll see I’ll come back as fresh as whenI set out. I expect to have a stunning appetite, though.”

  “I’ll try to cook up enough for you,” said his mother, smiling.

  Herbert went out into the wood shed, and went to work with great energyat the wood pile. In the course of an hour he had sawed and splitseveral large baskets full, which he brought in and piled up behind thekitchen stove.

  Mrs. Carter could not be expected to feel very deep grief for the deathof her uncle. It was now more than six years since they had met. Hewas a selfish man, wholly wrapped up in the pursuit of wealth. Had hepossessed benevolent instincts, he would have offered to do somethingout of his abundance for his niece, who he knew found it very hardto make both ends meet. But he was a man who was very much averseto parting with his money while he lived. He lived on a tenth of hisincome, and saved up the rest, though for what end he could not wellhave told. Since the death of Mr. Carter, whose funeral he had not takenthe trouble to attend, though invited, he had not even written to hisniece, and she had abstained from making any advances, lest it might bethought that she was seeking assistance. Under these circumstances shehad little hope of a legacy, though she could not help admitting thethought of how much a few hundred dollars would help her, bridging overthe time till Herbert should be old enough to earn fair wages in someemployment. If he could study two or three years longer, she would havebeen very glad, for her son had already shown abilities of no commonorder; but that was hardly to be thought of.

  “There, mother, I guess I’ve sawed wood enough to last you, unless youare very extravagant,” said Herbert, reentering the kitchen, and takingoff his cap. “Now is there anything else I can do? You know I shall begone two days, or a day and a half at any rate.”

  “I think of nothing, Herbert. You had better go to bed early, and get agood night’s rest, for you will have a hard day before you.”

  “So I will, but eight o’clock will be soon enough. Just suppose weshould get a legacy, after all, mother. Wouldn’t it be jolly?”

  “I wouldn’t think too much of it, Herbert. There isn’t much chanceof it. Besides, it doesn’t seem right to be speculating about our ownpersonal advantage when Uncle Herbert lies dead in his house.”

  There was justice in this suggestion, but Herbert could hardly beexpected to take a mournful view of the death of a relative whom hehardly remembered, and who had appeared scarcely to be aware of hisexistence. It was natural that the thought of his wealth shouldbe uppermost in his young nephew’s mind. The reader will hardly besurprised to hear that Herbert, knowing only too well the disadvantagesof poverty, should have speculated a little about his uncle’s propertyafter he went to bed. Indeed, it did not leave him even with his wakingconsciousness. He dreamed that his uncle left him a big lump of gold,so big and heavy that he could not lift it. He was considering anxiouslyhow in the world he was going to get it home, when all at once he awoke,and heard the church clock strike five.

  “Time I was on my way!” he thought, and, jumping out of bed, he dressedhimself as quickly as possible, and went downstairs. But, early as itwas, his mother, was down before him. There was a fire in the kitchenstove, and the cloth was laid for breakfast.

  “What made you get up so early, mother?” asked Herbert.

  “I wouldn’t have you go away without breakfast, Herbert, especially forsuch a long walk.”

  “I meant to take something from the closet. That would have done wellenough.”

  “You will be all the better for a good, warm cup of tea. Sit right down.It is all ready.”

  Early as it was, the breakfast tasted good. Herbert ate hastily, for hewas anxious to be on his way. Knowing that he could not afford to buylunch, he put the remnants of the breakfast, including so
me slices ofbread and butter and meat, into his satchel, and started on his longwalk.