“HITTING THE NALE ON THE HEDD.”
The nex morning, down came me and master to Lady Griffinses,--I amusing
myself with the gals in the antyroom, he paying his devours to the
ladies in the salong. Miss was thrumming on her gitter; my lady was
before a great box of papers, busy with accounts, bankers' books,
lawyers' letters, and what not. Law bless us! it's a kind of bisniss I
should like well enuff; especially when my hannual account was seven or
eight thousand on the right side, like my lady's. My lady in this house
kep all these matters to herself. Miss was a vast deal too sentrimentle
to mind business.
Miss Matilda's eyes sparkled as master came in; she pinted gracefully to
a place on the sofy beside her, which Deuceace took. My lady only looked
up for a moment, smiled very kindly, and down went her head among the
papers agen, as busy as a B.
“Lady Griffin has had letters from London,” says Miss, “from nasty
lawyers and people. Come here and sit by me, you naughty man you!”
And down sat master. “Willingly,” says he, “my dear Miss Griffin; why, I
declare, it is quits a tete-a-tete.”
“Well,” says Miss (after the prillimnary flumries, in coarse), “we met a
friend of yours at the embassy, Mr. Deuceace.”
“My father, doubtless; he is a great friend of the ambassador, and
surprised me myself by a visit the night before last.”
“What a dear delightful old man! how he loves you, Mr. Deuceace!”
“Oh, amazingly!” says master, throwing his i's to heaven.
“He spoke of nothing but you, and such praises of you!”
Master breathed more freely. “He is very good, my dear father; but
blind, as all fathers are, he is so partial and attached to me.”
“He spoke of you being his favorite child, and regretted that you were
not his eldest son. 'I can but leave him the small portion of a younger
brother,' he said; 'but never mind, he has talents, a noble name, and an
independence of his own.'”
“An independence? yes, oh yes; I am quite independent of my father.”
“Two thousand pounds a year left you by your godmother; the very same
you told us you know.”
“Neither more nor less,” says master, bobbing his head; “a sufficiency,
my dear Miss Griffin,--to a man of my moderate habits an ample
provision.”
“By-the-by,” cries out Lady Griffin, interrupting the conversation, “you
who are talking about money matters there, I wish you would come to the
aid of poor ME! Come, naughty boy, and help me out with this long long
sum.”
DIDN'T HE GO--that's all! My i, how his i's shone, as he skipt across
the room, and seated himself by my lady!
“Look!” said she, “my agents write me over that they have received a
remittance of 7,200 rupees, at 2s. 9d. a rupee. Do tell me what the sum
is, in pounds and shillings;” which master did with great gravity.
“Nine hundred and ninety pounds. Good; I daresay you are right. I'm sure
I can't go through the fatigue to see. And now comes another question.
Whose money is this, mine or Matilda's? You see it is the interest of a
sum in India, which we have not had occasion to touch; and, according to
the terms of poor Sir George's will, I really don't know how to dispose
of the money except to spend it. Matilda, what shall we do with it?”
“La, ma'am, I wish you would arrange the business yourself.”
“Well, then, Algernon, YOU tell me;” and she laid her hand on his and
looked him most pathetickly in the face.
“Why,” says he, “I don't know how Sir George left his money; you must
let me see his will, first.”
“Oh, willingly.”
Master's chair seemed suddenly to have got springs in the cushns; he was
obliged to HOLD HIMSELF DOWN.
“Look here, I have only a copy, taken by my hand from Sir George's own
manuscript. Soldiers, you know, do not employ lawyers much, and this
was written on the night before going into action.” And she read, “'I,
George Griffin,' &c. &c.--you know how these things begin--'being now of
sane mind'--um, um, um,--'leave to my friends, Thomas Abraham Hicks,
a colonel in the H. E. I. Company's Service, and to John Monro
Mackirkincroft (of the house of Huffle, Mackirkincroft, and Dobbs, at
Calcutta), the whole of my property, to be realized as speedily as they
may (consistently with the interests of the property), in trust for
my wife, Leonora Emilia Griffin (born L. E. Kicksey), and my only
legitimate child, Matilda Griffin. The interest resulting from such
property to be paid to them, share and share alike; the principal
to remain untouched, in the names of the said T. A. Hicks and J. M.
Mackirkincroft, until the death of my wife, Leonora Emilia Griffin, when
it shall be paid to my daughter, Matilda Griffin, her heirs, executors,
or assigns.'”
“There,” said my lady, “we won't read any more; all the rest is stuff.
But now you know the whole business, tell us what is to be done with the
money?”
“Why, the money, unquestionably, should be divided between you.”
“Tant mieux, say I; I really thought it had been all Matilda's.”
. . . . . .
There was a paws for a minit or two after the will had been read. Master
left the desk at which he had been seated with her ladyship, paced up
and down the room for a while, and then came round to the place where
Miss Matilda was seated. At last he said, in a low, trembling voice,--
“I am almost sorry, my dear Lady Griffin, that you have read that will
to me; for an attachment such as mine must seem, I fear, mercenary,
when the object of it is so greatly favored by worldly fortune. Miss
Griffin--Matilda! I know I may say the word; your dear eyes grant me the
permission. I need not tell you, or you, dear mother-in-law, how long,
how fondly, I have adored you. My tender, my beautiful Matilda, I will
not affect to say I have not read your heart ere this, and that I have
not known the preference with which you have honored me. SPEAK IT,
dear girl! from your own sweet lips: in the presence of an affectionate
parent, utter the sentence which is to seal my happiness for life.
Matilda, dearest Matilda! say, oh say, that you love me!”
Miss M. shivered, turned pail, rowled her eyes about, and fell on
master's neck, whispering hodibly, “I DO!”
My lady looked at the pair for a moment with her teeth grinding, her i's
glaring, her busm throbbing, and her face chock white; for all the world
like Madam Pasty, in the oppra of “Mydear” (when she's goin to mudder
her childring, you recklect); and out she flounced from the room,
without a word, knocking down poar me, who happened to be very near the
dor, and leaving my master along with his crook-back mistress.
I've repotted the speech he made to her pretty well. The fact is, I got
it in a ruff copy; only on the copy it's wrote, “Lady Griffin, Leonora!”
instead of “Miss Griffin, Matilda,” as in the abuff, and so on.
Master had hit the right nail on the head this time, he thought: but his
adventors an't over yet.