Henrietta Read Online Free PDF Page B

envisaged his Maker. Probably as some superior member of the aristocracy, she thought bitterly, who placed his angels carefully on clouds at a height according to their social station.
    “Lady Belding has written to Mrs. Grammiweather this very day,” said Henry, dabbing at his rosebud mouth with his napkin. “You must call on her tomorrow and thank her most humbly for her efforts. Why! What a peculiar look you have on your face!”
    He did not know that in her mind his sister had removed the chafing dish and was holding his head face down over the flames of the spirit lamp.
    “It is merely a touch of indigestion,” explained Henrietta.
    “You eat too much,” remarked her brother. Henrietta opened her month to point out that it was an obvious family failing since they were both overweight but tactfully held her tongue. She wondered if her brother ate too much for the same reasons as herself—waiting for the heavy weight of food to tranquilise her mind—but looking at his pompous face she doubted it.
    She kept her replies to polite monosyllables until the vicar rang the claret bell and signalled to her with a wave of his plump beringed hand that she had his permission to retire.
    The next morning Henrietta descended to the breakfast parlor early in the hope of avoiding her brother but he was already there, leafing through the morning post which had managed to arrive despite the heavy snow.
    Suddenly with a quickening heartbeat, Henrietta noticed him picking up a heavy letter addressed to herself. Without even looking at her, he opened it with a paper knife and started to read. Henry read all her letters.
    “Bless my soul!” gasped the vicar, rattling the pages of the letter. “Why, bless my soul.”
    “What is it, Henry dear?” asked Henrietta watching her brother’s prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down over the edge of his tight cravat. “If I painted little red eyes on it,” mused Henrietta, “it would look just like a puppet in a Punch and Judy show.”
    “Bless my soul!” gasped the vicar for the third time.
    “What is it Henry?” asked Henrietta and thinking, “if he doesn’t tell me soon, I shall pour his tankard of small beer slowly onto his head.”
    Her brother at last surveyed her in amazement. “Henrietta! Did I ever tell you of our Great Aunt Hester Tankerton?”
    “No,” lied Henrietta with forced calm. “You have always told me that we have no living relatives.”
    “Well, this is from her solicitors and I can hardly believe my eyes. The old lady who was prodigious rich has passed away… and left you her entire fortune.
    You! I can’t believe it. Why, I could have sworn she did not know of your existence. In fact, I took pains to….” He broke off in some confusion and unwillingly put the letter into his sister’s hands.
    It stated simply that Miss Henrietta Sandford was the sole inheritor of Mrs. Emily Tankerton’s fortune and the lawyer would be pleased to call on her during the month to explain the terms of the will. Failing that, if Miss Sandford would present herself at his chambers in Cheapside, London, the whole affair could be transacted quickly and to their mutual satisfaction. It was signed ‘Yr. obliged and faithful humble servant, James Twiddle.’
    Henry Sandford was getting over his first shock. He surveyed his sister with her placid round features under her neat cap and suddenly smiled. “Well, well, it is not so bad after all,” he said, rubbing his hands. The money is in the family after all, heh! I must apprise everyone of our good fortune.” He dropped a kiss on top of his sister’s cap. She winced in surprise and turned to watch him hurrying from the room.
    Henrietta sat for a long time staring at the letter until the hawk-like features of Lord Reckford seemed to swim in front of the paper. A slow smile gradually spread over her face.
    Half an hour later, several of the townspeople were shocked to see the respectable Miss Henrietta Sandford