Stowaways in the Abbey by Elsie J. Oxenham

Author:Elsie J. Oxenham
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile
Publisher: Reading Essentials
Published: 1941-02-19T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XVI

JEN MAKES HER WILL

“Yes, that would do,” Sir Keith said at last. “Suppose you wear the locket for us, for a time? But when you have done with it, it should be returned to us. Perhaps by then one of our boys may have married, and there may be a Marchwood girl who would like to wear it.”

“In my will, do you mean?” Jen cried in delight. “I’d love to make my will! I never thought I’d have anything precious enough to leave to anybody! Oh, couldn’t I do it now? Then you’d be sure it was what you want. You and Jack could be witnesses; you need two, don’t you?”

Sir Keith’s eyes gleamed in amusement. “If you will make your will, here and now, I will give you the locket for your lifetime.”

“Oh, glory! Of course I will! Tell me how to do it!” Jen cried eagerly. “Have you a pen? It should be written in ink. Then you could keep it in return for the locket, couldn’t you?”

Sir Keith grimly handed over a pen and some sheets of paper.

“That seems an excellent plan. But any later will you may make would cancel this one, you know, so you must be careful to remember always to mention the locket.”

“Every time I make my will. Yes, I see,” Jen nodded, settling herself at the big table. “This is a thrill! I never thought, when I set out to-day, that I should make my will before I went home!”

“What are you going to say?” Jack hung over Jen’s shoulder.

“Go away! You’ll make me nervous. We’ll tell you to come when we want you,” Jen retorted.

“We shall summon you when the document is ready for your signature,” Sir Keith said stiffly.

Jen chuckled as Jack retreated hastily. “How beautifully you put it! The document! I don’t know what to say,” she pleaded. “Won’t you tell me, please?”

“Put it in your own words, my dear.”

Jen sighed. “Has anybody a pencil? I shall need to start several times, I’m quite sure.”

Jack supplied a pencil, and Jen began to scribble. Sir Keith glanced at her, and then, with amused eyes, turned to his desk again.

“Will this do?” Jen looked up at last. “ ‘I, Janet Robins’—I suppose I must say Janet, as it’s a document!—‘wish that after my death the Marchwood locket and purse shall be given back to the Marchwood family, if possible to a girl called Katharine Marchwood, and if there is more than one Katharine by that time, to the eldest one. If there is no Katharine, then some other girl must have it, and she must call her daughter Katharine and give it to her. This is NOT to be cancelled by any later will, even if I forget to mention it.’ How would that do? I’d like a Katharine to have the locket again.”

Sir Keith assented gravely. “It will do excellently. Sign it with your full name. Your friend and I will witness your signature.”

“I’ll copy it out neatly,” Jen said. “May I take the pencil scribble away to show to Joan?”

“Certainly.

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