"DEAR SIR:--Pursuant to instructions received from our client Lady
Blanchemain, we beg to hand you herewith our cheque for Seven
hundred and fifty pounds (£750 stg.), and to request the favour of
your receipt for the same, together with the address of your
bankers, that we may pay in quarterly a like sum to your account,
it being her ladyship's intention, immediately upon her return to
England, to effect a settlement upon yourself and heirs of £100,000
funded in Bk. of Eng. stock.
"We are further to have the pleasure to inform you that by the
terms of a will just prepared by us, and to be executed by Lady
Blanchemain at the earliest possible date, you are constituted her
residuary legatee.
"With compliments and respectful congratulations,
"We have the honour, dear Sir, to be,
"Your obedient servants,
"FARROW, BERNSCOT, AND TISDALE."
And then there came another tap at the door, and it was the postman who
had returned, with a third letter which, like the true Italian postman
that he was, he had forgotten,--and I fancy, if it hadn't been for that
tip still warm in his pocket, the easy-going fellow would have allowed
it to stand over till to-morrow. He made, at any rate, a great virtue of
having discovered it and of having retraced his steps.
The letter was written in black, angular, uncompromising characters,
that looked rather like sabre-thrusts and bayonets. It read:--
"DEAR JACK:--I have received the enclosure from Linda Lady
Blanchemain. She is an exceedingly impertinent and meddlesome old
woman. But she is right about the allowance. I don't know why I
never thought of it myself. I don't know why you never suggested
it. I extremely regret it. As next in succession, you are
certainly entitled to an annuity from the estate. I have to-day
remitted £500 to your bankers, and am instructing my agents to pay
in a like amount quarterly.
"I hope I shall soon be seeing you at Ventmere. We are having a
grand lambing season, but there's a nasty spread of swine-fever,
and the whole country's papered with handbills. I got a goodish bit
of hunting down at Wilsborough during the winter. Now there's
nothing to do but play golf. I never could find any fun in shooting
rooks.
"Your affectionate uncle,
"B of V."