"I have brought you the statement of the property, Mrs. Kinloch," said Mr.
Clamp. "It is merely a legal form, embracing the items which you gave to
me; it must be returned at the next Probate term."
Mrs. Kinloch took the paper and glanced over it.
"This statement must be sworn to, Mrs. Kinloch."
"By you?"
"We are joined in the administration, and both must swear to it."
There was a pause. Mrs. Kinloch, resting her hands on her knee, tossed the
hem of her dress with her foot, as though meditating.
"I shall of course readily make oath to the schedule," he continued,--"at
least, after you have done so; for I have no personal knowledge of the
effects of the deceased."
His manner was decorous, but he regarded her keenly. She changed the
subject.
"People seem to think I have a mint in the house; and _such_ bills as come
in! Sawin, the cabinet-maker, has sent his to-day, as soon as my husband
is fairly under ground: forty dollars for a cherry coffin, which he made
in one day. Cleaver, the butcher, too, has sent a bill running back for
five years or more. Now I _know_ that Mr. Kinloch never had an ounce of
meat from him that he didn't pay for. If they all go on in this way, I
sha'n't have a cent left. Everybody tries to cheat the widow"----
"And orphan," interposed Mr.
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