The Greatest Works of Melville Davisson Post: 40+ Titles in One Edition. Melville Davisson Post
remain at home, Robert Dalton went into his library, gathered his books of reference from their cases, and began the preparation of his legal paper. This decree he found more difficult to draft than he had anticipated, and, striving to adjust its intricate matters, he became more and more absorbed until he was entirely unconscious of his surroundings and of the time that had elapsed.
Finally he arose in order to refer to some report that was not within reach of his hand. As he turned to the light he beheld a woman, wrapped in the folds of a long party cloak, standing with her hand on the door, as though she had just entered. Dalton was so utterly astonished that he literally rubbed his eyes to ascertain if he were not the victim of an illusion. Whereupon the woman threw back her cloak, and advanced to the table, when he perceived to his amazement that it was the younger Mrs. Van Bartan. To this man she seemed a daughter of the very gods in the full bloom of womanhood. The rich velvet cloak thrown back from her bare shoulders, the ball dress clinging like puffy webs to a form that his brooding mind had idolized; her eyes illumined, and her splendid hair wound in loose coils above her dainty head.
It would all be very weary to set out in detail what occurred on this October night; how the younger woman explained that she had finally divined the intention of the elder Mrs. Van Bartan, and how she had hoped to see Dalton at the LeConte Dean's, and not finding him had slipped away, and, availing herself of the foggy night, had been driven unattended to his house in order to implore his aid; how she came and stood beside him, and pointed out the dread results sure to follow the elder Mrs. Van Bartan's unnatural intentions,—results disastrous to her and to hers. Gerald Van Bartan was worthless, she knew that; he had never been taught to work; he was now too old to learn; it would mean poverty, grinding poverty, and shame worse than all; and her father, aged and broken in health, and the others of them, all dependent upon her, would be thrown out to huddle in beggary, literally, beggary.
How Dalton replied that there was nothing he could do; reminding her that the elder Mrs. Van Bartan was a woman of iron will, of stern resolve, of relentless determination, and that neither he nor any other living man could affect her. And how like a woman she answered that he, Dalton, would be sent for to make the will, and that he must save her some way, she did not know how,—he would know, he was shrewd, he was a great lawyer, he could certainly find some way; this she knew, and he must do it.
And how he labored to show her that there was nothing he could do—absolutely nothing; that the whole thing was hopeless, thoroughly, utterly hopeless; and then how she came to him and put her bare white arms around him and looked up into his face, the big tears shining in her glorious eyes, and said that if this were true, then she proposed to tell him all the truth, the truth that she loved him, him only in all the wide world, him always from her very childhood, and that for others she had made this sacrifice; and how great, how awful a sacrifice it had been, men could not understand. How he coldly loosed her arms, although to do it wrenched his very heart loose; although he would have given his life gladly to have taken her in his embrace if only for a moment, and told her how he understood and how he loved her for it, and how he would always love her to the very end of all things; but, instead, how he had sternly led her out to the carriage and forced her to leave him, and how he turned back into the library with his head swimming and his heart pounding like a hammer, and fought the whole thing out through the long October night, until the dawn crept in and the birds began to chirp in the Virginia creeper.
Some weeks later, as was anticipated, the elder Mrs. Van Bartan summoned Robert Dalton to her residence in order to prepare her will. Upon his arrival he found Simon Harrison, President of the First National Bank, and David Pickney, a steel manufacturer, both prominent citizens of unquestioned integrity; also the late Milton South, a most estimable physician. At Mrs. Van Bartan's request, Robert Dalton prepared the will in the presence of these three persons. When he had finished he handed the paper to the testatrix, who thereupon read it aloud in the presence of all, declared it entirely correct, and affixed her signature. As is customary, Dalton requested the three gentlemen to converse with the testatrix and satisfy themselves that she was in proper mental condition. This they did at some length, and not unskilfully, all being men of good sense. Afterward Harrison and Pickney subscribed their names as witnesses in the manner prescribed by the statute. Mrs. Van Bartan then placed the will in an envelope, sealed it with her own hand in the presence of all, and gave it to Simon Harrison to retain until after her death.
On the seventeenth day of December following, Mrs. Van Bartan died suddenly, and some days thereafter the will was opened and read at her late residence by Simon Harrison, executor. Gerald Van Bartan and his young wife were present, as was also Robert Dalton, and those others who had been with the deceased when the will was drawn. The elder members of the law firm, Carpenter and Lomax, were likewise present, and, at the request of Harrison, the Episcopal minister, Rev. Mr. Boreland, and his counsel, an obscure practitioner named Gouch.
The will was short, leaving the entire estate, real and personal, naming it specifically, for some religious purpose; and, in a spirit of grim jest, it would seem, one dollar each to her "beloved children," Gerald Van Bartan and Columbia Van Bartan, his wife.
The effect of this will upon the two young people, as the executor slowly read its provisions, would require a dramatist of no little stature to describe. The woman's face grew drawn and bloodless. The man's knees seemed to give way, and he would have fallen had he not been helped to a chair.
Dalton, men did not notice, for he was a skilful actor. When the executor had finished, Mr. Lomax plucked Carpenter by the arm, and inquired, in a low voice, if he had noticed any defect in the will. Carpenter replied that he had not, but that he had paid little attention to its form, whereupon Lomax requested him to examine it closely. The elder counsellor stepped up beside Harrison and began to go carefully over the instrument. Presently he stopped in amazement, and put his finger down on the paper.
"This will," he said, "is utterly void."
At the word, the blood surged back into Columbia Van Bartan's face. She took two steps toward Robert Dalton, then turned and buried her face in the folds of a heavy curtain. Dalton was cool and entirely incredulous.
"I think you are very much mistaken, Mr. Carpenter," he said quietly.
"Mistaken?" answered the counsellor. "Why, this bequest is made simply to 'St. Luke's Episcopal Church.' That organization is neither an individual nor a corporation; it has no recognized legal existence. And this request must fail for want of a devisee."
At this point Harrison, who was a slow but very careful man, interrupted and explained with great accuracy that the will was in every detail exactly as the testatrix had desired it; that even the language used was her language; that she had said "St. Luke's Episcopal Church," and that Mr. Dalton had written it in the instrument precisely as Mrs. Van Bartan had said, and that there could be no possible error either by accident or design.
Carpenter was about to reply, when Lomax, noticing his excitement, stepped in between Harrison and the elder attorney, and pointed out at great length that this was all no doubt true, but that, under the law, an indefinite religious organization, could not take a bequest; that this was not generally known to those unfamiliar with legal business, but that Mr. Dalton should have known that, in order to devise property to a religious organization, it must be given to a board of trustees, or to a certain person or persons, named in the will, for a specific and accurately determined purpose; that this, Mr. Dalton should have explained, and that his writing down the exact words of Mrs. Van Bartan had defeated her intentions, and rendered this bequest void.
"But, sir," put in the attorney Gouch, pompously, "the testatrix's intention must control. I see no——"
"Come, come, my good man," cried Carpenter, angrily, "this is what is known in Virginia as a 'vague and indefinite charity.' Such bequests have been held void for almost a century. Why Silas Hart attempted to create such a devise as early as 1790, and John Marshall, Chief Justice of the United States, held it void at law. Twenty years later. Joseph Gallego attempted to bequeath a similar charity to the Roman Catholic Church at Richmond, and Henry St. George Tucker, President of the Supreme Court of Virginia, in a famous opinion, held that it must fail, and from that time until the present the courts of this country have been passing upon this common error of testators and their incompetent advisers."