Oh, Money! Money! a Novel
Copyright© 2024 by Eleanor H. Porter
Chapter 11: SANTA CLAUS ARRIVES
It was not long after this that Mr. Smith found a tall, gray-haired man, with keen gray eyes, talking with Mrs. Jane Blaisdell and Mellicent in the front room over the grocery store.
“Well—” began Mr. Smith, a joyful light of recognition in his eyes. Then suddenly he stooped and picked up something from the floor. When he came upright his face was very red. He did not look at the tall, gray-haired man again as he advanced into the room.
Mellicent turned to him eagerly.
“Oh, Mr. Smith, it’s the lawyer—he’s come. And it’s true. It is true!”
“This is Mr. Smith, Mr. Norton,” murmured Mrs. Jane Blaisdell to the keen-eyed man, who, also, for no apparent reason, had grown very red. “Mr. Smith’s a Blaisdell, too, —distant, you know. He’s doing a Blaisdell book.”
“Indeed! How interesting! How are you, Mr.—Smith?” The lawyer smiled and held out his hand, but there was an odd constraint in his manner. “So you’re a Blaisdell, too, are you?”
“Er—yes,” said Mr. Smith, smiling straight into the lawyer’s eyes.
“But not near enough to come in on the money, of course,” explained Mrs. Jane. “He isn’t a Hiller-Blaisdell. He’s just boarding here, while he writes his book.”
“Oh I see. So he isn’t near enough to come in—on the money.” This time it was the lawyer who was smiling straight into Mr. Smith’s eyes.
But he did not smile for long. A sudden question from Mellicent seemed to freeze the smile on his lips.
“Mr. Norton, please, what was Mr. Stanley G. Fulton like?” she begged.
“Why—er—you must have seen his pictures in the papers,” stammered the lawyer.
“Yes, what was he like? Do tell us,” urged Mr. Smith with a bland smile, as he seated himself.
“Why—er—” The lawyer came to a still more unhappy pause.
“Of course, we’ve seen his pictures,” broke in Mellicent, “but those don’t tell us anything. And you knew him. So won’t you tell us what he was like, please, while we’re waiting for father to come up? Was he nice and jolly, or was he stiff and haughty? What was he like?”
“Yes, what was he like?” coaxed Mr. Smith again. Mr. Smith, for some reason, seemed to be highly amused.
The lawyer lifted his head suddenly. An odd flash came to his eyes.
“Like? Oh, just an ordinary man, you know, —somewhat conceited, of course.” (A queer little half-gasp came from Mr. Smith, but the lawyer was not looking at Mr. Smith.) “Eccentric—you’ve heard that, probably. And he has done crazy things, and no mistake. Of course, with his money and position, we won’t exactly say he had bats in his belfry—isn’t that what they call it?—but—”
Mr. Smith gave a real gasp this time, and Mrs. Jane Blaisdell ejaculated:—
“There, I told you so! I knew something was wrong. And now he’ll come back and claim the money. You see if he don’t! And if we’ve gone and spent any of it—” A gesture of despair finished her sentence.
“Give yourself no uneasiness on that score, madam,” the lawyer assured her gravely. “I think I can safely guarantee he will not do that.”
“Then you think he’s—dead?”
“I did not say that, madam. I said I was very sure he would not come back and claim this money that is to be paid over to your husband and his brother and sister. Dead or alive, he has no further power over that money now.”
“Oh-h!” breathed Mellicent. “Then it is—ours!”
“It is yours,” bowed the lawyer.
“But Mr. Smith says we’ve probably got to pay a tax on it,” thrust in Mrs. Jane, in a worried voice. “Do you know how much we’ll have to pay? And isn’t there any way we can save doing that?” Before Mr. Norton could answer, a heavy step down the hall heralded Mr. Frank Blaisdell’s advance, and in the ensuing confusion of his arrival, Mr. Smith slipped away. As he passed the lawyer, however, Mellicent thought she heard him mutter, “You rascal!” But afterwards she concluded she must have been mistaken, for the two men appeared to become at once the best of friends. Mr. Norton remained in town several days, and frequently she saw him and Mr. Smith chatting pleasantly together, or starting off apparently for a walk. Mellicent was very sure, therefore, that she must have been mistaken in thinking she had heard Mr. Smith utter so remarkable an exclamation as he left the room that first day.
During the stay of Mr. Norton in Hillerton, and for some days afterward, the Blaisdells were too absorbed in the mere details of acquiring and temporarily investing their wealth to pay attention to anything else. Under the guidance of Mr. Norton, Mr. Robert Chalmers, and the heads of two other Hillerton banks, the three legatees set themselves to the task of “finding a place to put it,” as Miss Flora breathlessly termed it.
Mrs. Hattie said that, for her part, she should like to leave their share all in the bank: then she’d have it to spend whenever she wanted it. She yielded to the shocked protestations of the others, however, and finally consented that her husband should invest a large part of it in the bonds he so wanted, leaving a generous sum in the bank in her own name. She was assured that the bonds were just as good as money, anyway, as they were the kind that were readily convertible into cash.
Mrs. Jane, when she understood the matter, was for investing every cent of theirs where it would draw the largest interest possible. Mrs. Jane had never before known very much about interest, and she was fascinated with its delightful possibilities. She spent whole days joyfully figuring percentages, and was awakened from her happy absorption only by the unpleasant realization that her husband was not in sympathy with her ideas at all. He said that the money was his, not hers, and that, for once in his life, he was going to have his way. “His way” in this case proved to be the prompt buying-out of the competing grocery on the other corner, and the establishing of good-sized bank account. The rest of the money he said Jane might invest for a hundred per cent, if she wanted to.
Jane was pleased to this extent, and asked if it were possible that she could get such a splendid rate as one hundred per cent. She had not figured on that! She was not so pleased later, when Mr. Norton and the bankers told her what she could get—with safety; and she was very angry because they finally appealed to her husband and she was obliged to content herself with a paltry five or six per cent, when there were such lovely mining stocks and oil wells everywhere that would pay so much more.
She told Flora that she ought to thank her stars that she had the money herself in her own name, to do just as she pleased with, without any old-fogy men bossing her.
But Flora only shivered and said “Mercy me!” and that, for her part, she wished she didn’t have to say what to do with it. She was scared of her life of it, anyway, and she was just sure she should lose it, whatever she did with it; and she ‘most wished she didn’t have it, only it would be nice, of course, to buy things with it—and she supposed she would buy things with it, after a while, when she got used to it, and was not afraid to spend it.
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