Hunter College High School - Argus Yearbook (New York, NY)

Page 84 text:

Firmly believing her niece invulnerable to the influence of another will, Aunt Leticia cast aside the advice of an experienced lawyer, for faith in a family trait. The Bassett household, when Dr. Porter declared Aunt Leticia as well as ever, resumed its routine. Rebecca again tripped down to the general store with a little can for the oil. fLeticia still used whale oil lampsj. A dignified, dark-eyed old lady in a rusty bonnet watered the purple hearts- ease and the yellow wallflowers that grew in the front garden. The garden and the home were the puritanical old woman's pleasures. Secretly, how- ever, she enjoyed the pleasures her Becky had, for she had always led a solitary life before Rebecca's coming, her only companion an aged spaniel, Monk , too old to do anything but sit on a cushion beside the fire. But Rebecca's life no longer consisted of simply getting oil for the lamp. She had now many friends, some among a group of artists visiting the town from an art colony near by. Especially did she cultivate the friendship of a Howard Lattimer of Lyme, an art student who had come to Saybrook to secure patrons for a new academy at old Lyme. As yet, he had not been successful, but he continued to be a visitor at the Bassett home. Not pleased with Rebecca's choice, her aunt, however, kept silent. Rebecca had blindly transformed what might otherwise have been called Howard's avarice-into practical frugality, his artistic ability she had magnified into a virtue. Leticia was not surprised when in June, Rebecca said she was going to marry Lattimer. Nothing left for an aunt to do but to give advice, promptly disregarded by Rebecca. They were married in the white church on the hill, whose steeple you first see from the harbor. Leticia was there in her rusty black gown and shawl, smelling faintly of lavender. More than ever, she looked grim and foreboding, she tried to pierce Howard Lattimer with her black eyes, he with steady suavity blunted her glances, and made her angry without reason. Rebecca was charming in her simple dress, and Howard the perfect groom. They went to live in Old Lyme. Howard had killed two birds with one stone, but only Leticia knew it. The dead heat of the summer was followed by a drizzly autumn. A damp chill settled over Aunt'Leticia's house. Her heartsease had withered, and only sturdy geraniums were left. Old Monk, the spaniel, fell into lethargy deeper than before. Candlesticks lost their brilliance, dust could be seen on the polished tables. But once a week, when Rebecca visited on Thursdays, the old 'cheer and energy returned to Aunt Leticia. Early she rose that day, and spent all her emotion in housecleaning. She dared not have Rebecca when she felt at her best, for her tongue might say what her mind thought. So she weared herself by scalding the iron pots, and washing the spaniel in hot water, hot within an inch of his life, and wishing all the time that a certain Lattimer man were under her relentless hands. By the afternoon, a tired old lady was meek enough to discuss amiably her niece's plans for removing her home at Lyme, or to hear about Howard's ideas on progress in art. Page Seventy-four

Page 83 text:

LETICIA HE room was silent, except for an occasional crackle of pine tar and the faint singing of the black kettle swung over the fire. The odor of burning spruce mingled with lavender. The ruddy glow of the fire was reflected by the burnished brass candlesticks on the mantel and by the bright brass knobs on the highboy. At the other end of the room? in a huge, four- poster bed of mahogany, a handsome old lady, with hawk eyes, a strong mouth, and pure white hair, lay quiet among the immaculate spreads. Cool determination was in her eyes, it was evident that she had passed through long physical illness, now to be quiet only to combat new problems. It was apparent from her expression that one problem, already appeared, was not settled to her satisfaction. Money and property she had, independent of mortgage or assessments, and the thoughts of an illness as severe as that she had just passed and hardly weathered, made her consider the settlement of the small Bassett fortune. She had been unable to make a final decision before a pretty yolmg girl entered, carrying a tray of hot tea, marmalade, and savory toast. Aunt Leticia, your tea, said the girl, placing the tray on the table beside the bed. She bent over and deftly arranged the pillows, and helped the old lady to a comfortable position. At that moment she became the possessor of a small fortune. Rebecca, said Aunt Leticia in her most imperious manner, it's yours. What is, Aunt Leticia? The money. But I don't understand-in That's perfectly all right, you don't have tof' said Aunt Leticia. But in the evening, when Rebecca came up to replenish the fire, the old lady explained the matter more kindly, and gave her niece a parting kiss, as much of a surprise to Rebecca as the sudden inheritance. The formal legal proceedings, however, were necessaryg and they next day a council of four was held in the parlor, Mr. David Gray, lawyer and counsellor to the family, Dr. Semus Porter, physician, as witness, Aunt Leticia, and Rebecca. For some time, Gray and Aunt Leticia argued. He did not seem to be winning. Mrs. Bassett, don't you see that setting a small part of the money aside for your support until death is necessary as well as advisable? I don't. Remember, you are relying on your niece for support. And suppose, suggested Cray, suppose Miss Bassett has a change of-heart? I have had Rebecca since she was ten years old, for eight long years. I know she is incapable of-that. But suppose someone changes it-for her? continued Gray. Enough, returned Aunt Leticia. Rebecca is a Bassett, a Bassett, Mr. Cray! Page Seventy-three

Page 85 text:

One Thursday in November, no amount of work could drive the re- sentment from Leticia's heart. It was against her grain to have to rely on Rebecca's weekly visits to get money. Previously, she had refused to accept a lump, sum, for she had never thought of Rebecca's marrying. She could still have part of the money transferred to her own name, but pride and the remembrance of 'Suppose someone changes it for her? kept her from seeing Lawyer Gray about it. How unlike the old Rebecca this, one was, today! Pale and thin, hurt and bewildered, shadows under her eyes. You know, Aunty, said Rebecca, finishing a cup of broth, Howard is economical-He is so full of his project, the art academy. Leticia had a lurking suspicion that Rebecca knew she was second to the project. 'Tm so glad, continued the girl, with the same pleading look, that you approve of Howard's plans, because today I've given up something that meant a lot to me, just because he showed me the advisability of the plan. I expect you did right, said Aunt Leticia, thinking of a new hat her niece had wanted, but had not bought. I have signed-your money-I mean my money-over to Howard, Rebecca announced with a frightened smile. You see, his project-- 'gYou did what? I said I- I heard you the first time. Poor Becky. Mr. Gray was the lawyer, I suppose? Oh no, Aunty. Howard say's he's too old-fashioned in the way he- Oh, I see. It seemed almost humorous that she would sit there in her own kitchen and be told that her source of income has suddenly been-She might denounce Howard-But the thought of Rebecca-the face of Rebecca stopped her. There were Thursdays in the winter, when Rebecca could visit her aunt. She had caught cold, walking with Howard down to East Lyme in the rain. They might have taken a jitney, but Howard preferred to save the unnecessary expense. When he came one moming alone to Leticia's door, she knew the truth, and told him coldly to spare himself the pain of telling. Though her grief at the girl's death was paramount, her hatred of Lattimer was second only to that. Her niece was buried-f rom the little white church whose steeple you see from the harbor. Of course, Mrs. Bassett, Lattimer was able to say, you cannot expect me to continue Rebeccais little notion of supplying you with money. I have many needs of my own. I am starting a- I know that quite well, Mr. Lattimer. I shall not ask you to supply me with money weekly. A more practical plan would be to set aside a small sum from my estatef' You mean from the money Rebecca signed over to me? Exactly Our lawyers can talk it over next week- Page Seventy-five