A BACKWARD GLANCE.
In order to more fully comprehend the events related in the last chapter
we must go back to the day following Lady Dunforth’s reception, when
Mrs. Alexander’s lawyer, Mr. Thurston, called and held a protracted
interview with her.
She had consulted him soon after arriving in London, and, after
gathering all the information possible regarding her history, he
informed her that there would be no difficulty whatever in establishing
Virgie’s claim, as a daughter of the House of Heath, and this morning he
had called to tell her that he was ready to arrange a meeting with Sir
William whenever she felt equal to the trial.
“Must I meet him!” she asked, growing faint at the thought.
“It will be best for both you and Miss Alexander to meet him at the
outset, for, of course, if he is at all inclined to contest the claim,
he will at once demand the proof of your identity,” Mr. Thurston
replied.
Mrs. Alexander felt that this would be a severer test upon her strength
than she had anticipated.
She did not wish to meet Sir William, and yet at the same time there was
an almost uncontrollable longing in her heart to see him once more. If
she could look upon him without his seeing her, it would be all she
would ask; she shrank from forcing herself upon his presence.
Still if it must be, she resolved to brace herself for the interview;
she had determined that he should acknowledge Virgie as his child, and
nothing should deter her from accomplishing her object.
“Very well,” she said, “I will be governed wholly by your advice. But
what is this?” she added, as he laid a paper before her.
“I simply desire your signature to this document as a mere matter of
form,” the lawyer told her.
Mrs. Alexander signed it and passed it back to him.
“Virginia N. Alexander,” he read; then he started.
“What is your middle name?” he asked.
“Norton. My grandmother was an English woman, by that name, before her
marriage.”
“What was her Christian name?” Mr. Thurston asked, eagerly.
“Nora.”
“Whom did she marry?”
“A man by the name of Charles Bradford. They went to America soon after
their marriage and settled in California,” Mrs. Alexander replied,
wondering why the lawyer should question her thus regarding her family.
“Did your grandmother have any brothers or sisters?”
“I believe there was a brother—Albert by name—for I have heard my
mother, who was called Alberta, say that she was named for an uncle; but
I never knew anything of him, as he lived in England, and, after my
grandmother’s death, all communication between the families ceased. It
was a whim of hers to call me Virginia Norton, for she said she did not
wish the family name to die out entirely.”
Mr. Thurston changed color and began to look excited. He drew a set of
tablets from his pocket, and, opening them, examined several entries
therein.
“Mrs. Alexander,” he said at last, “I believe you have at last
unwittingly solved a riddle that has been a very complicated one to me
and my partner for the last two years, and which we had almost despaired
of ever solving.”
“How can that be?” she asked, greatly surprised.
“Listen, and I will tell you,” said the lawyer. “There is living in
Cheshire County, England, a man by the name of Lord Albert Norton——”
“Oh, I do not think there was ever any title in our family,” Mrs.
Alexander interrupted, smiling. “I am sure they were people in moderate
circumstances, as my grandfather went to America to try to improve his
condition in life.”
“Lord Albert Norton was a comparatively poor man himself until he was
over fifty years of age,” Mr. Thurston went on, composedly, “when he
published some literary works of great merit. He began about that time
to interest himself in political affairs, and was created a peer of the
realm in 1840. He has been a very eccentric man, has never married, but
devoted himself almost wholly to literature and politics. He has amassed
wealth rapidly during the later years of his life, for, having no one
but himself on whom to expend it, his income has accumulated. He seldom
went into society and rarely entertained in his own home. He is now
about ninety years of age, and although very feeble in body, his mind
appears to be as vigorous as ever.
“Two years ago he applied to us to look up some relatives who went to
America many years ago. We were authorized to make thorough work and
spare no expense, for his lordship was anxious that his property should
go to some of his kindred rather than to the crown after his death. We
traced Nora Norton Bradford to California, but she had been dead many
years. We found she had had a daughter Alberta who had married a man by
the name of Alexander. She and her husband were also dead; their graves
were found in the Lone Mountain cemetery, San Francisco. We learned that
they, too, had a daughter by the name of Virginia, but she had
disappeared from the city several years ago, and no trace of her could
be found; not until I saw your signature this morning did it occur to me
that I had found the heir for whom Lord Norton commissioned us to search
so long ago.”
Mrs. Alexander looked up with a pale, wondering face.
“Do you mean to imply that I am Lord Norton’s heir?” she asked, in an
agitated tone.
“Exactly,” replied Mr. Thurston, confidently, “judging from what you
have told me there can be no doubt of it. I suppose that you have proofs
of your identity, however?”
“Yes, I have my marriage certificate and an old Bible that belonged to
my grandmother, which contains, in her own handwriting, the date of her
birth and marriage, also that of her husband’s death and my mother’s
birth.”
“That will be ample proof. And now, Mrs. Alexander, as Lord Norton is in
a very critical condition, being liable to drop away any day, we must go
to Chester immediately. When can you be ready?”
“In an hour, if necessary,” she replied, “but it does not seem possible
that I can be related to this gentleman! I cannot realize it—a peer of
the realm!” she quoted to herself with a strange smile.
“We will submit our evidence to his lordship himself and see what his
verdict will be,” returned Mr. Thurston, smiling. “A train will leave
for Liverpool at two this afternoon. Chester is a few miles this side,
and we will avail ourselves of that, if agreeable to you.”
“Very well; I submit myself wholly to your guidance, in this matter,”
Mrs. Alexander responded. “Meantime, I suppose, my other business will
have to wait.”
“I should advise it; as Lord Norton is in such a critical condition,
every moment is precious. It will be far better for him to recognize you
as his heir, than to be obliged to prove it after his death; and, madam,
you will occupy no mean position if you become the mistress of
Englewood, which is the name of his fine estate.”
Mr. Thurston then took his leave, promising to call in season to
accompany her to the train, and then the still wondering woman sought
Virgie and related the marvelous tale to her.
This was the business that called them so suddenly from London, and
which was destined to bring about even greater changes in their lives
before their return.
They arrived at Englewood late in the evening, and found his lordship’s
carriage awaiting them at the station, for Mr. Thurston had telegraphed
of his coming, and stated that he should bring two ladies with him.
They found Englewood, at least what they were able to see of it, a
delightful place. The house, a massive structure of stone, was an
ancient affair, but it had been well preserved, and although it was the
home of an eccentric old bachelor, was a most comfortable and home-like
dwelling. Evidently his lordship knew and appreciated the luxuries of
life.
The following morning, Mr. Thurston had an interview with the invalid
and informed him of his recent discovery.
Lord Norton expressed himself very much delighted with the news, and
appeared very eager to make the acquaintance of his grand-niece and her
daughter.
Accordingly, after he was somewhat rested, Mr. Thurston conducted the
ladies into his presence, and the moment his eye rested upon Mrs.
Alexander, he declared his conviction that she was a Norton; “her
features are very like his sister Nora’s,” he said, “although her
grandmother was not nearly as handsome,” he added, with a twinkle of
humor about his mouth.
The old Bible and marriage certificate were brought to him, and
confirmed his statement regarding the relationship. He recognized his
sister’s handwriting immediately, and produced some of her letters to
compare with it.
“There can be no doubt,” Mr. Thurston said, after a careful examination
of the chirography, “and I congratulate you, my lord, upon the
fulfillment of your desire; and you, madam,” turning to his client,
“upon having discovered your relative.”
“Will you stay with me, Virginia?” the old man asked, turning a wistful
glance upon the beautiful woman. “It will not be for long,” he added;
“the sands of my life are nearly run out; a few days, or weeks at the
most, will end my life, and it will be pleasant to feel that some of my
own kin are near me at the last.”
Yes, his niece said, she would stay; her heart went out with a feeling
of pity and tenderness toward the man, who all his life, had lived in
such loneliness and isolation, and she resolved that she would devote
herself exclusively to his comfort during the little while that he
remained upon earth.
Mr. Thurston was detained a day or two to attend to some business,
relating to the will, which gave everything, with the exception of some
annuities to old servants, to Virginia Alexander and her heirs forever.
She had come to Englewood on the very day of Mr. William Heath’s
accident, and it was the following morning, at the very hour of her
first interview with her uncle, that Sir William Heath received the
telegram announcing his cousin’s critical condition.
He, too, left on the two o’clock train for Liverpool, reaching
Middlewich about the same time that Mrs. Alexander had arrived at
Englewood the night before.
It was three days later, that in accordance with his proposition to the
Duke of Falmouth to act as amanuensis to Lord Norton in his cousin’s
place, he went to Englewood to begin his work under the old lord’s
direction, little dreaming of the surprise and joy in store for him
there.
When the butler answered his ring, he stated his business, and was shown
directly to the invalid’s chamber, where he found him propped up in bed
with manuscripts lying all about him, and impatiently awaiting his
appearance.
He spent several hours, learning the plan of the work, making notes, and
even venturing a few suggestions upon some points regarding which he was
well posted, and then took his leave promising to get regularly to work
the next day.
As he was following the servant down stairs, the man remarked that his
carriage was not ready, but if he would step into the library for a few
moments, he would inform him when it came to the door.
He signified his willingness to do so and passed down the wide old hall,
which was paneled in oak exquisitively carved, to a lofty room,
furnished and frescoed in rich tints, and lined from floor to ceiling
with books of every description.
It was a most luxurious apartment, and plainly indicated that the old
lord, eccentric though he might be on some points, had loved the
elegancies of life. If he had been something of a miser, as report
accredited him, it could not have been in anything relating to his own
comfort or tastes.
Sir William sat down by a table that was drawn close to a cheerful fire,
and, leaning back lazily in the huge lounging chair stationed there, he
took up the morning paper which lay open at his hand.
He had read scarcely a dozen lines, when the door behind him opened and
some one came forward, saying, in an eager tone:
“Oh, Virgie, I have just found an old Bible up stairs, in which there
are records of all family births, marriages, and deaths for many
generations; my grandmother’s and my mother’s are among them and
correspond exactly with those I have—ah! excuse me; sir—I thought—oh,
Heaven!”——