There Was an Old Woman Read Online Free Page B

legal process, and the Potts dynasty rolled on.
    It should be remembered (Charley Paxton reminded Ellery) that in December of 1902 Cornelia had moved her three fatherless children to New York City and built a house for them—the Potts “Palace,” that fabulous square block of granite and sward on Riverside Drive, facing the gentle Hudson and the smoky greenery of the Jersey shore. So Cornelia had met Steve Brent in New York.
    â€œIt’s a wonder to me,” growled the young attorney, “that Steve tore himself away from Major Gotch long enough to be alone with the old girl and ask her to marry him—if he did ask her.”
    Stephen Brent had come to New York from the southern seas, or the Malay Peninsula, or some such romantic place, and with him, barnacle-like, had come Gotch—two vagabonds, of the same cloth, united by the secret joy of idleness and tenacious in their union. They were not bad men; they were simply weak men; and men of weakness seemed to be Cornelia’s weakness.
    Perhaps this was why, of the two wanderers, she had chosen Steve Brent to be her prince consort, and not Major Gotch; for Major Gotch evinced a certain minor firmness of fiber, not exactly a strength but a lesser weakness, which happily his friend did not possess. It was this trait of his character which enabled him to stand up to Cornelia Potts and demand sanctuary with his Pythias. “Marry Steve—yes, ma’am. But Steve, he’ll die without me, ma’am. He’s just a damn’ lonesome man, ma’am,” Major Gotch had said to Cornelia. “Seeing that you’re so well-fixed, seems to me it won’t ruffle your feathers none if I sort of come along with Steve.”
    â€œCan you garden?” snapped Cornelia.
    â€œNow don’t get me wrong,” said Major Gotch, smiling. “I ain’t asking for a job, ma’am. Work and me don’t mix. I’ll just come and set. I got a bullet in my right leg makes standin’ something fierce.”
    For the first time in her life Cornelia gave in to a man. Or perhaps she had a sense of humor. She accepted the condition, and Major Gotch moved right along in and settled down to share his friend’s incredible fortune and make himself, as he liked to say, thoroughly useless.
    â€œWas Cornelia in love with Stephen?” asked Ellery.
    â€œIn love?” Charley jeered. “Say, it was just animal magnetism on Cornelia’s part—I’m told Steve had ‘pretty eyes,’ though they’re washed-out now—and a nice business deal for old Steve. And it’s worked out not too badly. Cornelia has a husband who’s given her three additional children, and Steve’s lolled about the rich pasture after a youth of scratching for fodder. Fact is, he and that old scoundrel Major Gotch spend all their time together on the estate, playing endless games of checkers. Nobody pays any attention to them.”
    â€œThe three children of the Old Woman’s first marriage—the offspring of Cornelia and the ‘teched’ and vanished Bacchus Potts—are crazy,” Charley continued.
    â€œDid you say ‘crazy’?” Ellery looked startled.
    â€œYou heard me.” Charley reached for the decanter.
    â€œBut Thurlow—”
    â€œAll right, take Thurlow,” argued young Mr. Paxton. “Would you call him sane? A man who spends his life trying to hit back at people for imaginary insults to his name? What’s the difference between that and a mania for swatting imaginary flies from your nose?”
    â€œBut his mother—”
    â€œIt’s a question of degree, Ellery. Cornelia’s passion for the honor of the Potts name is kept within bounds, and she doesn’t hit out unless she has a vulnerable target. But Thurlow spends his life hitting out, and most of the time nothing’s there but a puzzled look on somebody’s face.”
    â€œInsanity is a