Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 165, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 July 1913 — HER COUSIN'S WILL [ARTICLE]

HER COUSIN'S WILL

<lt Was the Means of Bringing Together Two Ardent f Lovers.

BY M. DIBBELL.

"Broda Norton yon are sixteen ■kinds of a goose if yon don’t try to break that horrid will —any Judge would decide you had all the right there was to the money.” “Consider me the whole sixteen kinds then; Cousin Olive had a perfect right to do as she chose with her own.” With wrathful sarcasm Alice Packard again broke forth. “Of course your being for over five years at the beck and call of an utterly -able egotist is nothing—" Broda stopped her. “Now Alice, you know that Cousin Olive had the kindest of hearts and was very good to me. I am sure I shall soon find something to do, so don’t you worry about me.” “You need a good long reßt first of all; you are looking simply tired out 1 only wish I had h home of my own to take you to—but wnat can a boarding school teacher do?" “What a nice rhyme, and who is the goose now? I never felt better, and do not In the least need a vacation.” But Alice insisted that a rest was' 'imperative, and when she departed it was with the -firm determination that Broda should in some way obtain her 'rights. Broda at once started upstairs to 'finish her packing, this being the day* on which she was to leave her icousin’s. Promptly at five o’clock the village hack arrived, her trunk, was ihoisted to its place, and after receiving a tearful farewell from Matilda. 'Cousin Olive’s housekeeper, Broda 'was driven to the widow Bruce’s cotitage where shf had engaged a room.' Broda had many friends in PeterIbury, and it was not long before an 'elderly couple whose last single daughter had just married and gone 'to live in a distant part of the state, 'engaged her to act as companion apd I general “cheerer up of the lonesome 'two that were left.” It was thus ! Deacon Haverhill pht it, when he came to talk matters over. The ffiew home proved a very happy •one for Broda, the deacon* and his 'wife treating her as if she were indeed a daughter of their own. Meanwhile John Weston, Ctrasin 'Olive’s heir, had entered into the possession of the estate. Broda first saw Ibim after the morning service as she was coming down the aisle of the church with the Haverhills. It was 'the deacon who pointed him out, and i asked her opinion of him. "Cousin Olive always had a weakness for big men with dark eyes and hair, and’he evidently had all three of those points in his favor,” was Broda’s response. The deacon added, “looks to me 'like a good sensible fellow —I mean 'to speak to him first chance I get.” This chance came sooner than he expected, for on reaching the door John Weston surprised them by addressing Broda. "I beg your pardon for my abruptness, Miss Morton, but we must be cousins in some degree, and I am going to ask if you will grant me an interview to talk over an important matter?” Broda liked the dark eyes which ipet her own so frankly, and answered demurely: “You must ask Deacon Haverhill, here, if I may ask you to Haverhill House.” The deacon laughed, and gave John Weston a friendly handshake. “Miss Broda knows that our house is always open to her friends.” John thanked him and Tuesday afternoon was set for the interview. John Weston was prompt to. the tninute. He was no sooner seated than he spoke to the point. “Cousin Broda, your friend Mlbs Packard came 'to me last week and told me of your 'five years’ faithful devotion to Cousin Olive. She said that she thought it entirely übjust for you to >be left without reward of any sort for such service. I quite agree with her, and have tried to think out a way that will make matters right. Cousin Olive knew that I was well provided for and a partner in a growing business, so I can’t understand why everything was left to me. This Is my plan, that you take the house—which Miss Packard sayß you care greatly so that we divide the - cash and securities. Unless you say yes I shall feel like a thief and a robber.”' Broda gave a little gasp at this generous offer. Thank you a thousand times, but I cannot accept. Cousin Olive had a perfect right to do as she pleased with her own, and she was always good and generous to me —she never hinted at anything more than I received." This was the first of many visits which John Weston paid at the Haverhill homestead. ’< The business of which John had spoken must have found that it could exist without its junior partner, for he remained the summer through In Peterbury. But In September his presence was demanded by the firm, and one perfect morning John surprised Broda as she was picking a bench of the deacon’s late roses. “Duty calls, and I must go,” was his greeting, and Broda was startled at the shock his words gave her. "The senior partner says I must come at once, or he will do something desperate. Before Igo I have one other solution to offer concerning the estate. If you will not accept nhU,

won’t yen take, the whole and myself with it—Broda will you be my wife?” Broda hastily withdrew the hand John had clasped, and cried indignantly: “It is Impossible, and I wonder how you dare suggest such a thing. Oh, how could you—l never want to speak to you again." To his consternation she flung away her roses, and bursting into tears ran to the house. ... * ■ | . “What a lovely mess I have made of everything!” groaned poor John. "I had better get back to business — love has no place in my life.” ♦ Broda did not see ibhn Weston again for many months. He left Peterbury the day after her rqfraff, to take up his work in a distant city. ' Life even with the kindly Haverhills assumed a very dull tone, but Broda tried her best to be a cheerful companion for them and their affection for her grew. The winter dragged slowly and in early April Broda received a call from Matilda the housekeeper, John West-on having retained her in that capacity. “I shall right glad to get the thing off my mind,” she began without preamble, “for it has been a sort of nightmare to me the whole year through. Just a few weeks before she died, Miss Morton handed me this package.” Broda went at once to her room, and with eager fingers broke the seals of the packet, revealing a legal Jooking document and an envelope with her own name upon it in Olive Norton’s handwriting. She drew out the sheet of paper and read: "My dear little Broda:

"I trust you are’ not harboring any unkind thoughts against your cousin, indeed I have had only your good at heart. I knew of no better way to bring John Weston to Peterbury than by making him my heir. I am positive that if he sees you he will love you, and a better man than John It would be hard to find. I hope that by this time you have become all the world to each other, and if so the alteriug of my will can make no difference to either of you. At least I want you to spend the rent of your life in comfort, and to know that your love tfras the greatest blessing of my lonely existence. Love from “COUSIN OLIVE." When Broda could check the tears she unfolded the legal document. It proved to be a regularly drawn and executed will, dated two months later than the one now In effect, in which Olive Norton left all of which she died possessed—with the exception of a few legacies—to her "beloved niece Broda Norton.” Deacon Haverhill wrote to John Weston at once, informing him of this change of bis affairs; and John’s reply was to appear in person to congratulate Broda on her gpod fortune. It was less than a week ifter the discovery of the new will when with his usual directness John, as soon‘as he entered the Haverhill home, addressed Broda. “I am delighted that cousin Olive has shown she was true blue after all. I shall always love you, Broda, but I am not selfish enough to want you to marry me unless you could care for me." 1 “I thought you were trying to do what you believed was right, and I couldn’t come to you that way—but I do love you, John,” said Broda.(Copyright, 1918, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)