|Tall and thin, and very business-like in manner, was Mr. Carteret.
Sitting down quietly beside the old gentleman, and taking the will from
his clerk, he proceed to read it.
Though conducted with due deliberation, the ceremony did not occupy many
minutes, and when the attorney had finished reading the document, Mr.
Calverley declared himself perfectly satisfied.
“All you have to do is to sign it, sir,” said the attorney.
Accordingly, a small table was placed beside the invalid's chair, and
the will was duly executed and attested.
“Pray call in my wife,” said Mr. Calverley, as soon as this was done.
When Mrs. Calverley re-appeared, she was informed by her husband that
the will was executed.
“Yes; the business is done, madam,” observed Mr. Carteret, with a very
singular expression of countenance.
“Shall I leave the document with you, sir?”
“No; take charge of it,” replied Mr. Calverley.
“Well, perhaps, it will be best with me,” observed the attorney, glancing
at the lady as he spoke.
He was in the act of tying up the instrument preparatory to consigning
it to his clerk, when the door opened, and Chetwynd and his sister came
in.
The old gentleman looked greatly startled by the unexpected appearance
of his son, and did not, for a few moments, recover his composure.
Scarcely knowing what might ensue, Mrs. Calverley stepped between them.
“I was not aware of your return, Chetwynd,” said Mr. Calverley, as soon
as he was able to speak.
“I have only just come back sir,” replied his son, regarding him
steadfastly. “I hope I have arrived in time to prevent you from doing an
act of injustice to me and my sister?”
“You will have much to answer for, Chetwynd, if you agitate your father
at this moment,” interposed Mrs. Calverley. “You see what a critical
state he is in!”
“I cannot help it, madam,” rejoined the young man. “I must and will
speak to him while he is able to listen to me. Pray, don't go, I beg of
you, Mr. Carteret,” he continued, to the attorney, who was preparing to
follow his clerk out of the room. “It is proper you should hear what I
have to say. I have reason to believe, sir,” he added, to his father,
“that you have left your entire property to your wife, and have made my
sister and myself entirely dependent on her. If this is really the case,
I entreat you to alter your determination----”
“I don't understand why you permit yourself to talk to me thus,
Chetwynd,” interrupted the old gentleman, his anger supplying him with
strength. “At all events, I shall not tolerate it. Even supposing it
were as you state, I have a perfect right to bequeath my property as I
see fit, and you have not proved yourself such a dutiful son as to merit
consideration on my part. Wait till the fitting season, and you will
learn what I have done.”
“No, sir; I won't wait till your ears are deaf to my prayers! I _will_
speak while you are able to listen to me. I may have given you some
offence, but do not carry your resentment to the grave. Bethink you that
whatever you do now will be irreparable.”
“I cannot bear this!” cried the old man. “Take him away! He distracts
me!”
“Mr. Chetwynd,” said Carteret, “I am extremely reluctant to interfere;
but your presence certainly disturbs your father very much. Let me beg
you to retire!”
The young man showed no disposition to comply.
“Perhaps, Chetwynd, when I have spoken,” said Mr. Calverley, trying to
calm himself, “you will either go or keep silence. I have done what, on
mature consideration, and with the prospect of death before me, I deem
best for you and your sister; and I am certain my wishes will be most
faithfully carried out.”
“What you say, sir, seems to intimate that you have placed us entirely
in the hands of your wife,” cried his son. “Why should you compel us to
bow to her will and pleasure?”
“Because she will take care of you,” rejoined the old man; “and, though
you are two-and-twenty, you have not come to years of discretion.”
“That is your opinion, sir. But, granting it to be correct, does it
apply to my sister?”
“Your sister makes no complaint,” said his father, looking
affectionately at her. “She knows I have done all that is right. She is
in good hands.”
“Yes, I am quite sure of that, papa!” cried Mildred. “Pray don't think
about me!”
“Chetwynd,” she added to him, in a low tone, “I wouldn't have brought
you here had I imagined you would make this terrible scene!”
“I really must interfere to prevent the continuance of a discussion
which I am aware can lead to no beneficial result,” interposed Mr.
Carteret. “I would again beseech you, Mr. Chetwynd, not to trouble
your father! I know he has good reasons for what he has done. Have you
anything further to say to me, sir?” he added to Mr. Calverley.
“Stop a minute, Mr. Carteret, I beg of you!” cried Chetwynd. “I am yet
in hopes that I may move him. Let me make one more appeal to your sense
of justice, sir!” he added to his father. “I promise you it shall be the
last!”
“I cannot listen to you!” replied Mr. Calverley.
“You refuse, then, to alter your will?”
“Positively refuse!” rejoined the old gentleman. “For heaven's sake let
me die in peace! Can you not prevail on him to go,” he added to his wife
and daughter. “He will kill me outright!”
“You hear what your father says!” cried Mrs. Calverley, in an
authoritative tone. “Go, I command you!”
“Yes, I _will_ go,” rejoined Chetwynd; “but not at your bidding! You are
the sole cause of this misunderstanding between my father and myself. By
your arts you have cheated me out of my inheritance!”
“Ah!” ejaculated Mrs. Calverley.
“This is madness!” exclaimed Mr. Carteret, trying to drag him from the
room.
“Hear my last, words, sir!” cried Chetwynd to his father. “I never will
touch a shilling of your money if it is to be doled out to me by this
woman!”
And he rushed out of the room.