"Precisely. Are you going to give us the real story, or do you want Molly and me to feel that we aren't trusted, now that you are poor like us?"

"I suppose it'll all come out in a few days. You might as well know." And so Solly told the Cobblers the conditions of his mother's will. They opened their eyes very wide, and Cobbler gave a long whistle, but it was his wife who spoke.

"That's what you can really call laying the Dead Hand on the living, isn't it," said Molly. "I suppose it's something to be proud of, in a way; not many people have the guts to make a really revengeful will. They're too anxious to leave a fragrant memory, and few things are so fragrant as a million dollars. I suppose it's well over a million?"

"Haven't any idea," said Solly. "But I'm sure you're wrong about revenge. I mean, Mother was capricious, and very strong-minded, but revenge -- it doesn't seem like her."

"Seems very much like what I knew of her," said Cobbler. "You really must grow up, you know. Your Mum told you that she loved you, and you believed her. She made your life a hell of dependency, and you put up with it because she played the invalid, and tyrannized over you with her weak heart. She beat off any girls you liked, until you got up enough gumption to marry Veronica -- or Veronica got enough gumption to marry you; I never quite knew which it was. That was only a bit more than a year ago. What peace have you known since? She made you come here and live with her, and like a couple of chumps you did it. She let it be known as widely as possible that your marriage grieved her."

"Look here, you're talking about my Mother, who was buried the day before yesterday. I don't expect you to behave like other people, but you must show some decency. I know better than anybody how difficult she was, but she had very good reasons for everything she did. Of course they're not easily understandable, from an outsider's viewpoint. I've read and re-read her will today; it's very full, and very personal. She says that she has left the money away from me to prove me -- to test what I can do absolutely on my own. She says she knows it will be hard, and advises me to take my father as an example. I know -- it sounds very odd by modern notions of such things, but it is quite obvious that she meant it kindly."

This was greeted with a studied silence by the others.

"Well, look at it from her point of view," said Solly, when the silence had begun to wear on him. "She always knew I was rather a feeble chap; it was her last try to put some backbone into me."

"You're not a bit feeble," said his wife, laying her hand on his.

"Yes; yes, I am. I don't pretend that this will isn't a shock, and I won't pretend to think it's really fair. But I see what she meant by it. And your suggestion that it was because of our marriage is sheer nasty spite, Humphrey. I won't say Mother liked Veronica, but I know she respected her. And certainly Ronny was as good as any daughter could have been to her during the past six months. You didn't marry me for money, did you?" said he, smiling at his wife.

"I don't think that is what Humphrey meant," said Veronica.

"Well, what else is there?"

"Darling, if you haven't thought of it, I won't find it very easy to explain. Your mother leaves you her money -- or the income from it, which is the same thing -- if we have a son. Well? Must we set to work, cold-bloodedly, to beget a child, hoping it will be a son? If it is a daughter -- try, try again. You know what people are. They'll be ready to make the worst of it, whatever happens. They'll have a splendid, prurient snigger at us for years. Don't you see?"

"Oh I'm sure Mother never meant anything like that," said Solly.

"Then why did she make such a will?" said Molly. "You've got to consider the generation your mother belonged to. She wasn't a big friend of sex, you know. She undoubtedly thought it would dry up the organs of increase in you both. Very pretty. Sweetly maternal."

"I wish you people would get it into your heads that you are talking about my Mother," said Solly, with some anger.

"Now look, Solly," said Cobbler, "talk sense. Ever since I first met you your main topic whenever you were depressed was what a hell of a time your mother was giving you. I've heard you talk about her in a way which surprised even me -- and I specialize in speaking the unspeakable. You can't make a saint of her now simply because she is dead."

"Shut up," said his wife. "Solly needs time to get used to the fact that his mother is dead. You know how you carried on when your mother died. Roared like a bull for days, though you rarely gave her a civil word the last few times you met."

"Those were quarrels about music," said Cobbler. "We disagreed on artistic principles. Just showed how really compatible we were that we could talk about them at all. I bet Solly never talked to his mother about such things."

"The terms of her will showed that she cared a great deal about artistic principles. Or about education, anyhow," said Solly.

"I have not forgotten that she requested that My Task be sung at her funeral," said Cobbler. "The bill for that caper is outstanding, by the way. I only got a girl to do it at the last moment."

"She sang it very nicely," said Veronica.

"Good voice. A girl called Monica Gall. And it will be ten dollars."

"Include it in the bill you send to Snelgrove," said Solly, "along with the charges for the choir, and yourself."

"I played gratis."

"Well, don't. Send Snelgrove a bill. I don't wish to think that my Mother was obliged to you for anything."

"Oh, for God's sake don't turn nasty, just because I spoke my mind. If you want friends who echo everything you say and defer to all your pinhead notions, count me out."

"Shut up, both of you," said Molly. "You're carrying on like a couple of children. But listen to me, Solly. You and Veronica may have some hard days ahead of you, and you've got to make up your minds now to stick together, or this idiotic will can make trouble between you. And the fact that you have no money will make it all the easier."

"We have just as much money as we ever had," said Solly. "I still have my job, you know."

"A junior lecturer, and quite good for your age. A miserable salary, considering that you are expected to live the life of a man of education and some position on it. Still, Humphrey and I are living very happily on less. But if I understand the conditions of the will, you have to live in this house, and keep it up, and keep Ethel and Doris on that money, and go on having children until you have a son. They say that clever men tend to have daughters, Solly, and I suppose you qualify as a clever man, in spite of the way you are behaving at present." Molly's affectionate tone took the sting out of her words. "But I think you should recognize that your mother has laid the Dead Hand on you and Veronica in the biggest possible way, and the sooner you see that the better you will be able to deal with it."

"And you'd better not begin by holding a grudge against me," said Cobbler. "You are going to want all your friends, now that you have joined the ranks of the struggling poor. You are going to feel some very sharp pangs, you know, when you see all that lovely money, which might have been yours, going to support dear little Miss God-knows-who, while she studies flower arrangement in the Japanese Imperial Greenhouses, at the expense of your Mum's estate. So stop snapping me up on every word. I had nothing personal against your Mum. It is just that she symbolized all the forces that have been standing on my neck ever since I was old enough to have a mind of my own. And to prove my goodwill, I give you a toast to her memory."

Amity was restored, and they drank the toast. Perhaps only Molly and Veronica heard Cobbler murmur, as he raised his glass, "Toujours gai, le diable est mort."

TWO.

Mrs Bridgetower's will would not, under ordinary circumstances, have become a matter of public interest until the probate was completed but, as Cobbler pointed out, there were institutions in Salterton which hoped for a legacy. Chief among these was Waverley University, and the rumour that it was to have nothing aroused some waspishness in the Bursar's office. Universities are, in a high-minded way, unceasingly avaricious. The thought that the wealthy widow of a former professor -- a member of the family, so to speak -- had not remembered the Alma Mater in her will (particularly when her son and presumed heir was also of the faculty) was unbearable. The rumour was that a trust had been set up, and moreover a trust with an educational purpose; if this were true, it was a slap in the face for Waverley. But was it true?

It is not a university's function to pry into private affairs. That is the job of a newspaper. Thus it was that, acting on a discreet tip from the Bursar's office, the Salterton Evening Bellman sought information from the three executors in turn. From Miss Puss it received the sharpest of rebuffs; the Dean temporized, and said that he was not free to speak until he had consulted the others; it was Solly who said that a trust was to be established, and that details should be sought from Mr Snelgrove. The lawyer, who loved secrecy, called the executors together to urge them to say nothing to anyone; nobody had any right to know anything about Mrs Bridgetower's estate until after probate. It was Solly who pointed out that this was impossible.

A detailed knowledge of law and ordinary common sense are not always found together, and it was Solly who had to explain the situation to Mr Snelgrove, as tactfully as possible. According to the will, the girl who was to benefit from Mrs Bridgetower's money must be chosen and launched on her course of study within a year of her benefactress' death: Mr Snelgrove was also to have the probate completed by that time, or else suffer the humiliation of seeing this juicy plum pass into the hands of another lawyer. Therefore, whether the trust was legally in existence before the probate or not, the girl must be chosen within a year, and that could not be done unless some knowledge of the impending trust were available to at least a few people. It took a surprisingly long time to get this through Mr Snelgrove's head, though he had drawn Mrs Bridgetower's will and ought to have foreseen it. His was the perplexity of the man who understands his situation intellectually but has not comprehended it emotionally, and he continued to say "Yes" and "I see" when it was amply clear that he did not see at all.

Though Solly was willing that something should be known of the trust, he was not willing that it should be publicly known that his mother had used him shabbily. His state of mind was by no means an uncommon one: his mother had been the bane of his life, but after her death he was determined that no one should think ill of her. So, after consultation with Veronica, he paid a visit to Mr Gloster Ridley, the editor of The Bellman, explained the situation to him, and asked for his help in putting the best face on the matter. This stroke of diplomacy, undertaken without the knowledge of the other executors or of Snelgrove, had excellent result. The Bellman published a reasonable amount of information about the trust and its purpose, made it clear that nothing would happen for some time, said kind things about the late Mrs Bridgetower's lifelong enthusiasm for the education of women, and gave no hint that the lady's son had been left a mere token bequest, or that there were any curious conditions attaching to the trust. Thus an agreeable version of the truth was made public, and the murmurs at Waverley were, for the moment, stilled.

Mr Snelgrove and Miss Puss were displeased, however. They both possessed that type of mind which gets deep satisfaction out of withholding information. If Miss Puss could have bought shoes without confiding her size to the salesman, she would have done it. So another meeting was called, and Solly was raked over the coals for talking to the press. Already he was learning useful lessons from his experience as an executor, and he let Snelgrove and Miss Puss talk until they were tired. Then he covered all his previous arguments once again, and pointed out that the effect of the newspaper article had been good, and that it had substituted a body of carefully chosen fact for spiteful rumour. He received unexpected support from Dean Knapp. It would be too much to say that Miss Puss and the lawyer were mollified, but they were temporarily subdued. Solly had a pleasant feeling that he was becoming the guiding spirit of the executors.

It was his idea, for instance, that the executors should always meet in the Bridgetower house. Snelgrove had read the will there, to satisfy his sense of drama; Solly contrived that the executors should meet there, arguing that, as the house was the property of the trust, the trustees should make use of it for their official deliberations. This gave him a certain advantage, for while it was true that the house was part of the trust, it was also his dwelling, and he played the role of host there. Miss Puss was first to recognize the implications of this, and she took her revenge at that second meeting, when she and Snelgrove were angry with Solly about the newspaper account of Mrs Bridgetower's will.

Veronica had met her at the door, and welcomed her. "I think, dear, that it would be better if you were not present at the trustees' meetings," said Miss Puss.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of coming into the meeting," said Veronica; "If just wanted to help you with your coat."

"I am sure you mean everything that is kind, dear," said Miss Puss, "but we must avoid any appearance of impropriety. I say this both as an executor and a friend. I am sure you hear everything in good time, as it is." Veronica retired to another room with a red face, and a sense that she had been presumptuous in a house which was now, apparently, even less her home than when her mother-in-law had been alive.

Solly had overheard this exchange, and he was angry. He had not much spirit when it came to fighting for himself, but he was ready to fight anyone for Veronica. Therefore he took it out of Miss Puss rather more than was necessary, in a quiet way, and stored up a considerable quantity of resentment against her, to be worked off at his future convenience. If his mother had truly meant her will to make a man of him, it was working rapidly to make him a hard and bitter man. Laura Pottinger was his mother's oldest friend, and as such she had domineered over him from boyhood. But he was strongly conscious of the fact that as he had grown up, she had grown old, and he meant to put her in her place over and over again, if that should be necessary, until she learned what her place was.

It was clear to him also that Mr Matthew Snelgrove would have to be dealt with, for the lawyer took the line that the three executors needed guidance, and he was their obvious guide. When he had at last been made to realize that he could not in any way call in the information which The Bellman had given out, he warned the executors strictly against revealing any further terms of the will.

"I must tell you," said Solly, "that Veronica and I have already had a talk with Ethel Colman and Doris Black. They have both been with the family a long time, and had a right to expect legacies. You know that there are legacies for them -- when I have a son. We thought it right that they should know."

"But that is exceedingly irregular," said Snelgrove. "I am charged with the very difficult task of settling this large estate in a year; how am I to do so if my prerogatives are taken from me and information revealed and expectations raised before I have even had time to settle to the work?"

"The whole thing is irregular," said Solly, "and Veronica and I feel that Ethel and Doris deserve any consideration we can give them. They have a right to know where they stand. We can't possibly keep them both, or even one of them, on my salary. They must be free to take other jobs. And you might as well know that I offered to raise the money for their legacies myself, so that they could have them now. Otherwise we don't know how long they may have to wait."

"But if you have told them the conditions of the will, they are certain to talk," said Snelgrove. "You know how things get around -- even when nobody runs to the newspapers."

"I know that you read my mother's will on Christmas Eve to the four of us and that on Christmas Day quite a few people knew that I had been cut out of it," said Solly. To his astonishment, and triumph, the other three all blushed in their various ways. "Certainly I didn't tell anyone in that time."

"If irresponsible talk is permitted, your Mother's reputation may suffer," said Miss Puss. "That ought to mean a great deal to you."

"And so it does," said Solly, "but I think that you will agree that my Mother has made it somewhat difficult to prevent hard things being said. People at Waverley have not stuck at saying she tricked them -- led them to think they were to get a substantial sum, and then didn't come through with it. You ought to know, Auntie Puss, that she didn't care what anybody said, when she wanted things her own way."

Miss Puss changed her tack. "I suppose it is inevitable, but I wish that you did not involve Veronica so much in these affairs. I suppose she sympathized with the servants without any regard for the reflection on dear Louisa."

"Veronica is my wife, Miss Puss," said Solly. "Mother often seemed to forget that, but there is no reason why anyone else should do so. She is in this as much as I am. I'll tell her whatever I think proper -- and that is everything."

A fight seemed imminent, and Snelgrove intervened, choosing his point of pressure badly. "You have offered to pay Ethel and Doris legacies; what will you do for money? Have you insurance? Or savings?" He knew very well that Solly had neither.

"I have talked to my bank," said Solly, with a smile. "They are very friendly, and are ready to lend me money on my expectations."

"Be careful of borrowing on that security," said Snelgrove. "You may involve yourself irretrievably. What if you never inherit?"

"You'll excuse me if I am more optimistic about that than an older man might be," said Solly. "I offered to get the banker a doctor's certificate that I am -- in good health; he very decently said I needn't bother. I have a young and healthy wife. I assure you, Miss Puss and gentlemen, that I mean to inherit just as fast as I can."

"Of course; of course," said the Dean, and then blushed, realizing that his encouragement might be misinterpreted. He was extremely uncomfortable.

"My chief concern is that a proper regard be shown for dear Louisa's wishes," said Miss Puss, who had an ill-understood but powerful feeling that Solly was outraging his mother's memory with indecent talk.

"Apparently she wished for a grandson," said Solly, "and I am going to do everything in my power to gratify her."

It was in this uncomfortable strain that the executors' meetings continued. Solly called them whenever he thought it necessary. He summoned the Dean, Miss Puss and Snelgrove to tell them that Doris Black had decided to leave his employ, and that Ethel Colman meant to continue to live in the house as cook, on a reduced salary. She was already in receipt of the Old Age pension and meant to retire in another two or three years anyhow. She did not want to take another position at her time of life. Both the women had accepted his offer of a cash settlement of their legacies, and both were ready to sign a paper waiving any future claim on the estate. Snelgrove, groaning and protesting, was instructed to prepare such a paper and see it properly signed.

As he gained the commanding position among the executors, Solly developed quite a taste for meetings and schemes. He urged that they should lose no time in seeking out the beneficiary of Mrs Bridgetower's trust. He overrode the objections of Snelgrove and Miss Puss, pointing out that the choice might be a difficult and time-taking one. After one meeting, which filled three and a half rancorous hours, he insisted that a vote be taken, giving vast offence to Snelgrove, who had a tongue but no vote. The Dean voted with Solly, and within a week a discreet notice appeared in the Bellman explaining what the trust would be empowered to do, and asking those who were interested to make application in writing to Matthew Snelgrove, solicitor to the Bridgetower Trust.

It was a major victory, but it was not achieved quickly. Three months of the precious year of grace had elapsed, and it was the beginning of April when the advertisement appeared.

[TWO].

Considering the care which the executors took in wording their advertisement, it was misinterpreted in a remarkable number of ways. It was clearly stated that the recipient of Mrs Bridgetower's bounty must be female, not over twenty-one or under that age in December of the current year, and a resident of the city of Salterton. Nevertheless four young men proposed themselves; thirty-two applicants were over-age, one of them confessing to forty-six; they hailed from everywhere within the range of The Bellman's circulation. It was made plain that the beneficiary must be a student of the fine arts, and these were defined as painting, sculpture, music, literature and architecture, and reasonable branches thereof. The applicants, who reached a total of eighty-seven, interpreted the word "reasonable" in a large and generous sense.

There were potters who wanted to study in England, and weavers who wanted to study in Sweden. There was a jeweller who did not want to be a goldsmith or a silversmith, but said she was "very hot on design". The nearest thing to a sculptor was a young man who had done some interesting things in soap and saw no reason to go beyond this convenient medium. There were some genuine painters, and one real etcher. There were a few musicians, but all were over-age. The writers supplied depressing, ill-spelled and dirty manuscripts of their work, all of which seemed to be intended for poetry. There was one girl who wanted to be a recreation director and felt that a few years among the folk-schools of Europe would be good both for her and Europe. There were five girls who, representing themselves as writers, were in fact scholars who wanted to use the money for projects of research. There were dancers, one of them specializing in what she called "modern ballroom and tap". There was a girl who wanted to perfect herself in the use of the piano-accordion and the electric guitar. All expressed themselves in terms of inordinate ambition unfettered by modesty, and promised great achievement if they should be chosen.

It took the executors three weeks' work to reduce the applications to a short list. Solly could have done it in a night, but the others disapproved of his frivolous way of howling with delight or despair as he read the letters. They insisted that, in fairness to everybody and in keeping with the solemnity of their position, each letter should be read aloud and seriously discussed. This gave Miss Puss great opportunities to reflect on the quality of the young people of today, and to compare them, much to their disfavour, with the young people she had known at the turn of the century. Mr Snelgrove also felt it necessary to say his say on this congenial theme; although he complained tirelessly about the amount of time the proceeding took, he could not keep away from it. Solly explained to him that, as he was not an executor, it was not necessary for him to attend all of these sorting meetings, but the lawyer did not choose to understand the hint. It was clear that he loved it, for it fed his sense of importance. It began to appear, also, that he was proving to the ghost of Mrs Bridgetower that as she had chosen to oppress him, he could suffer with the best of them. He was also ticking up the legal expenses involved in settling her will.

When at last the short list was agreed upon, it was very short indeed. It contained only two names -- Nicole John, who wanted to be an architect, and Birgitta Hetmansen, who was a painter.

Miss John exploded within a week. In reply to Snelgrove's letter, asking her to meet the executors for a preliminary talk, there came a reply from her father saying that his daughter's health would make the acceptance of any such benefaction entirely out of the question; he expressed huffy surprise that the executors had not thought of consulting him before entering into a plan to take his daughter from her home. Nothing further was seen or heard of Miss John.

Miss Hetmansen was a different matter. She appeared with a large portfolio of her work, and photographs of pictures which she had sold. She had some newspaper clippings in which her drawings and paintings were given favourable criticism. She had a very good letter from her teacher. She was a dark, personable, quiet girl and she pleased Miss Puss by comporting herself like a lady -- not a lady of Miss Puss's own era, but the nearest thing that could be expected in these dark days.

She knew what she wanted. Her desire was to go to Paris, and she could name the teachers with whom she wanted to study, and knew where they were to be found. In all, the executors had three meetings with Miss Hetmansen, and at the last of these her teacher appeared, and spoke of her in high terms. The executors were delighted. It looked as though they had found their swan.

But one day Solly was called to the telephone to speak to Miss Puss. "We must have a meeting at once," said she; "I have terrible news." When the executors had gathered a few nights later, she brought out this news with a great show of reluctance. She had it on good authority that Miss Hetmansen was not a virgin.

"Does it matter?" said Solly.

"Let us never forget that the Louisa Hansen Bridgetower Trust is the creation and memorial of a woman who stood for everything that was finest in Canadian life," said Miss Puss. "We are certainly not going to spend one cent of her money on a hussy."

"She's not a hussy," said Solly. "She's very nice. You said so yourself."

"Any girl of whom it is possible to say what I have just said, when she is a mere twenty years old, is a hussy," said Miss Puss. She then fixed the Dean with a bloodshot green eye, and continued, with menace. "And if this is brought to a vote, don't suppose that you men can overrule me. I'll take it to the courts for a decision, if need be. Perhaps you care nothing for these things, but I knew Louisa's mind as none of you ever did." She was ready for war. "If you are afraid to tell this girl that she is not acceptable, and why, I am quite ready to take that duty on myself."

But it was agreed that this would be unnecessary. Miss Hetmansen's letters and pictures were returned to her by mail, with a note saying that if she heard nothing further from the executors within seven days, it would mean that her application had been unsuccessful. Miss Hetmansen was not a fool. She knew why she had been refused. She had succumbed to the importunities of her teacher coolly, and almost absent-mindedly, with a vague feeling that an affair might do something for her colour sense. Apparently all it had done was to lose her a lot of money, and make her teacher untrustworthy as a critic of her work. She did not really care. She had great faith in her talent and she would get to Paris anyway. She was not the gossipy sort, but she remarked to a few people that the Bridgetower Trust, as it had now begun to be called, was primarily a good conduct prize, and strictly for amateurs.

And thus the trustees were left without a candidate, and it was June.

[THREE].

A superstitious belief persists in Canada that nothing of importance can be done in the summer. The sun, which exacts the uttermost from Nature, seems to have a numbing effect upon the works of man. Thus Matthew Snelgrove, while assuring Solly that he was going ahead at full speed in settling Mrs Bridgetower's estate, went to his office later in the morning, and left it earlier in the afternoon, and was quite unavailable at night. During the whole of August he went with his wife to visit her girlhood home in Nova Scotia, where he gave himself up to disapproving contemplation of the sadly unruly behaviour of the sea. Miss Puss Pottinger, according to her custom, went to Preston Springs for two weeks in June, to drink the waters and then, greatly refreshed, she went to a severely Anglican lakeside resort in Muskoka, and there hobnobbed with some Sisters of St John who had a mission nearby. Solly and Veronica went on a leisurely, cheap motor trip, hoping that a change of air might hasten the conception which had, so far, eluded them. They needed a holiday from the obtrusive benevolence of their cook Ethel, who had stayed with them at a reduced salary, and never allowed them for a moment to forget it; they were learning that a faithful family retainer is a two-edged sword. The Dean went to his summer cottage, removed his clerical collar and settled himself to fish by day and read detective stories by night. They were all glad to forget about the Bridgetower Trust.

But early in September Solly woke up one morning with a painful sense that only three months remained in which to make a choice. "We must get to work at once," said he to Veronica.

"Is there really such a hurry?" said she. Their holiday had greatly improved her health, and she looked dark, beautiful and serious as she lay by him in the large, old-fashioned bed. "Would a few months make such a difference?"

The will says, "Within a calendar year of the date of my death". Nobody would object if we stretched it a little, I suppose, but I am determined that it shall be carried out to the letter. Besides, I want to make old Snelgrove jump. He has a very poor opinion of me, and so has Puss. I'll show them. We'll send an accordion-player or a soap sculptor abroad to study, if need be, but we'll do it in the prescribed way and in the prescribed time."

"You've become very determined."

"I have indeed."

[FOUR].

"If you're absolutely stuck for somebody to squander your Mum's money on, why don't you have a look at Monny Gall?" said Cobbler to Solly. It would be wrong to say that Solly had confided the growing embarrassment of the Trustees to his friend; Cobbler had been insatiably curious about everything connected with the Bridgetower Trust since he heard of it on Christmas Day, and he wormed information out of Solly and Veronica at every opportunity. It fascinated him, he explained, to think of so much lovely money looking for somebody to spend it.