Mother’s estate is left entirely to me and is greater than I thought. She had set aside a small inheritance I knew nothing about, and it has grown impressively. So I am to have the house, the furnishings, sufficient income to live comfortably, and two slaves, Peek and a boy named Isaiah whom Mother has hired out to a baker in town. All this is mine, and yet it is not mine, because my husband can, and doubtless will, dispose of it just as soon as I can get it. “Is there no way to preserve this to myself?” I pleaded with the lawyer.
“Not unless you were to divorce your husband,” he said. “And that could take years. In the meantime he would have control of the estate.”
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