THE WILL
Mr. Durham was a smart young lawyer of the new school. The business was
an old one and lucrative; but while its present owner was still under
thirty, his father died and he was left solely in charge. Wiseacres
prophesied that, unguided by the shrewdness of the old solicitor, Durham
junior, would lose the greater part, if not all, of his clients. But the
young man had an old head on young shoulders. He was clever and
hard-worked, and, moreover, possessed a great amount of tact. The result
was that he not only retained the old clients of the firm, but secured
new ones, and under his sway the business was more flourishing than
ever. Also Mark Durham did not neglect social duties, and by his charm
of manner, backed by undeniable business qualities, he managed to pick
up many wealthy clients while enjoying himself. He always had an eye to
the main chance, and mingled business judiciously with sober pleasures.
The office of Durham & Son--the firm still retained the old title
although the son alone owned the business--was near Chancery Lane, a
large, antique house which had been the residence of a noble during the
reign of the Georges. The rooms were nobly proportioned, their ceilings
painted and decorated, and attached to the railings which guarded the
front of the house could still be seen the extinguishers into which
servants had thrust torches in the times they lighted belles and beaux
to splendid sedan chairs. A plate on the front intimated that a famous
author had lived and died within the walls; so Durham & Son were housed
in a way not unbecoming to the dignity of the firm. Mr. Durham's own
room overlooked a large square filled with ancient trees, and was both
well-furnished and well-lighted. Into this Sir Simon and his nephew were
ushered, and here they were greeted by the young lawyer.
"I hope I see you well, Sir Simon?" said Durham, shaking hands. He was a
smart, well-dressed, handsome young fellow with an up-to-date air, and
formed a striking contrast to the baronet in his antique garb. As the
solicitor spoke he cast a side glance at Beryl, whom he knew slightly,
and he mentally wondered why the old man had brought him along. Sir
Simon had never spoken very well of Julius, but then he rarely said a
good word of anyone.
"I am as well as can be expected," said Sir Simon, grumpily, taking his
seat near the table, which was covered with books, and papers, and
briefs, and red tape, and all the paraphernalia of legal affairs. "About
that will of mine--"
"Yes?" inquired Durham, sitting, with another glance at Beryl, and still
more perplexed as to the baronet's motive for bringing the young man. "I
have had it drawn out in accordance with your instructions. It is ready
for signing."
"Read it."
"In the presence of--" Durham indicated Beryl in a puzzled way.
"I can go, uncle, if you wish," said Julius, hastily, and rose.
"Sit down!" commanded the old man. "You are interested in the will."
"All the more reason I should not hear it read," said Julius, still on
his feet.
Sir Simon shrugged his shoulders and turned his back on his too
particular nephew. "Get the will, Durham, and read it."
It was not the lawyer's business to argue in this especial instance, so
he speedily summoned a clerk. The will was brought, carefully engrossed
on parchment, and Durham rustled the great sheets as he resumed his
seat. "You wish me to read it all?" he asked hesitatingly.
Sir Simon nodded, and, leaning his chin on the knob of his cane,
disposed himself to listen. Beryl could not suppress an uneasy movement,
which did not escape his uncle's notice, and he smiled in a grim way.
Durham, without further preamble, read the contents of the will, clearly
and deliberately, without as much as a glance in the direction of the
person interested. This was Julius, and he grew pale with pleasure as
the lawyer proceeded.
The will provided legacies for old servants, but no mention was made of
Mrs. Gilroy, a fact which Beryl noted and secretly wondered at. Various
bequests were made to former friends, and arrangements set forth as to
the administration of the estate. The bulk of the property was left to
Julius Beryl on condition that he married Lucy Randolph, for whom
otherwise no provision was made. The name of Bernard Gore was left out
altogether. When Durham ended he laid down the will with a rather
regretful air, and discreetly stared at the fire. He liked young Gore
and did not care for the architect. Therefore he was annoyed that the
latter should benefit to the exclusion of the former.
"Good!" said Sir Simon, who had followed the reading with close
attention. "Well?" he asked his nephew.
Beryl stammered. "I hardly know how to thank you. I am not worthy--"
"There--there--there!" said the old man tartly. "We understand all that.
Can you suggest any alteration?"
"No, uncle. The will is perfect."
"What do you think, Durham?" said Gore, with a dry chuckle.
"I think," said the lawyer, his eyes still on the fire, "that some
provision should be made for your grandson. He has been taught to
consider himself your heir, and has been brought up in that expectation.
It is hard that, at his age, he should be thrown on the world for--"
"For disobedience," put in Beryl, meekly.
Sir Simon chuckled again. "Yes, for disobedience. You are not aware,
Durham, that Bernard wants to marry a girl who has no name and no
parents, and no money--the companion of a crabbed old cat called Miss
Plantagenet."
"I know," said the young lawyer, nodding. "She is the aunt of Lord
Conniston, who told me about the matter."
"I thought Lord Conniston was in America," said Julius, sharply.
"I saw him before he went to America," retorted the solicitor, who did
not intend to tell Beryl that Conniston had been in his office on the
previous day. "Why do you say that? Do you know him?"
"I know that he has a castle near my uncle's place."
"Cove Castle," snapped Sir Simon. "All the county knows that. But he
never comes near the place. Did you meet Lord Conniston at Miss
Plantagenet's, Julius?"
"I have never met him at all," rejoined the meek young man stiffly, "and
I have been to Miss Plantagenet's only in the company of Bernard."
"Aha!" chuckled Sir Simon. "You did not fall in love with that girl?"
"No, uncle. Of course I am engaged to Miss Randolph."
"You can call her 'Lucy' to a near relative like myself," said the
baronet, dryly. "Do you know Miss Malleson, Durham?"
"No. I have not that pleasure."
"But no doubt Bernard has told you about her."
Durham shook his head. "I have not seen Gore for months."
"Are you sure? He inherits a little money from his father; and you--"
"Yes! I quite understand. I have charge of that money. Gore came a few
months ago, and I gave him fifty pounds or so. That was after he
quarrelled with you, Sir Simon. Since then I have not seen him."
"Then he does not know that I am in Crimea Square."
"Not that I know of. Certainly not from me. Is he in town?"
It was Beryl who answered this. "Bernard has enlisted as an Imperial
Yeoman," said he.
"Then I think the more of him," said Durham quickly. "Every man who can,
should go to the Front."
"Why don't you go yourself, Durham?"
"If I had not my business to look after I certainly should," replied the
lawyer. "But regarding Mr. Gore. Will you make any provision for him,
Sir Simon?"
"I can't say. He deserves nothing. I leave it to Julius."
"Should the money come into my possession soon," said Julius,
virtuously, "a thing I do not wish, since it means your death, dear
uncle, I should certainly allow Bernard two hundred a year."
"Out of ten thousand," put in Durham. "How good of you!"
"He deserves no more for his disobedience to his benefactor."
Sir Simon chuckled yet again. "I am quite of Julius's opinion," he
declared. "Bernard has behaved shamefully. I wanted him to marry a Miss
Perry, who is rich."
"Why can't you let him marry the woman he loves?" said Durham, with some
heat. "They can live on ten thousand a year and be happy. What is the
use of getting more money than is needed? Besides, from what I hear,
this Miss Malleson is a charming girl."
"With no name and no position," said Sir Simon, "a mere paid companion.
I don't want my grandson to make such a bad match. If he does, he must
take the consequences. And he will--"
"Certainly he will," said Beryl, anxious about the signing of the will.
"He has been hard-hearted for months, and shows no signs of giving in.
Since I am to inherit the money I will allow Bernard two hundred a year,
or such sum as Sir Simon thinks fit."
"Two hundred is quite enough," said the baronet. "Mr. Durham, we will
see now about signing this will."
"Can I not persuade you to--"
"No! You can't persuade me to do anything but what I have done. I am
sure Julius here will make a better use of the money than Bernard will.
Won't you, Julius?"
"I hope so," replied Beryl, rising; "but I trust it will be many a long
day before I inherit the money, dear uncle."
"Make your mind easy," said Sir Simon, dryly. "I intend to live for many
a year yet."
"I think I had better go now," observed Julius, rising.
"Won't you stop and see the will signed?"
"No, uncle. I think it is better, as I inherit, that I should be out of
the room. Who knows but what Bernard might say, did I remain, that I
exercised undue influence?"
"Not while I am present," said Durham, touching a bell.
"All the same I had better go," insisted the young man. "Uncle?"
"Please yourself," replied Gore. "You can go if you like. I shall see
you on Friday when you come for Lucy."
"To take her to the Curtain Theatre. Yes! But I trust I will see you
before then, uncle." And here, as a clerk entered the room and was
apparently, with Durham, about to witness the will, Julius departed. He
chuckled to himself when he was outside, thinking of his good luck. But
at the door his face altered. "He might change his mind," thought Beryl.
"There's no reliance to be placed on him. I wish--" he opened and shut
his fist; "but he won't die for a long time."
While Julius was indulging in these thoughts, Sir Simon had taken up the
will to glance over it. He also requested Durham to send the clerk away
for a few moments. Rather surprised, the lawyer did so, thinking the old
man changeable. When alone with his legal adviser the baronet walked to
the fire and thrust the will into it. Durham could not forbear an
ejaculation of surprise, "What's that for?"
"To punish Julius," said Sir Simon, placidly returning to his seat, as
though he had done nothing out of the way. "He is a mean sneak. He told
me about Bernard being in love with that girl so as to create trouble."
"But you don't approve of the match?"
"No, I certainly do not, and I daresay that when I insisted on Bernard
marrying Miss Perry that the truth would have come out. All the same it
was none of Beryl's business to make mischief. Besides, he is a sly
creature, and if I made the will in his favor, who knows but what he
might not contrive to get me out of the way?"
"No," said Durham, thoughtfully, but well pleased for Bernard's sake
that the will had been destroyed. "I don't think he has courage to do
that. Besides, people don't murder nowadays."
"Don't they?" said Sir Simon; "look in the newspapers."
"I mean that what you think Julius might do is worthy of a novel. I
don't fancy novels are true to life."
"Anything Julius did would be just like a novel. I tell you, Durham, he
is a villain of the worst; I don't trust him. I have led him on to think
that the will has been made in his favor; and when he learns the truth
he will be punished for his greed."
"But, Sir Simon," argued the lawyer, "by letting him think the will is
made in his favor, you have placed him in the very position which,
according to you, might lead to his attempt to murder."
"I'll take care of myself," said the old man, somewhat inconsistently,
for certainly he was acting differently to what he said. "By the way,
you have the other will?"
"Yes! It leaves everything to Bernard save the legacies, which remain
much the same. Of course, in the first will is mentioned an annuity to
Mrs. Gilroy."
"Hum, yes. I left her out of the new will. The fact is, I don't trust
Mrs. Gilroy. She's too friendly with Julius for my taste."
"I understood her to be on the side of Bernard."
"Oh, she's on whatever side suits her," said Sir Simon, testily.
"However, let the first will stand. She's a poor thing and has had a
hard life. I have every right to leave her something to live on."
"Why?" asked Durham, bluntly. He found Mrs. Gilroy something of a
mystery, and did not know what was the bond between her and Sir Simon.
"Never you mind. I have my reasons, so let things remain as they are.
Bernard can marry Miss Malleson when I am dead if he chooses."
"He thinks he has been disinherited?"
"Yes! I told him so. The truth will come as a pleasant surprise."
"Won't you take him back into favor and tell him?" urged Durham.
"No! not at present. If we met, there would only be more trouble. He has
a temper inherited from his Italian mother, and I have a temper also. He
behaved very rudely to me, and it's just as well he should suffer a
little. But I don't want him to go to the war. He must be bought out."
"I fear Bernard is not the man to be bought out."
"Oh, I know he is brave enough, and I suppose being bought out at the
eleventh hour when war is on is not heroic. All the same, I don't want
him to be shot."
"You must leave things to chance," said Durham decidedly. "There is only
one way in which you can make him give up his soldiering."
"What's that?"
"Make friends with him, and ask him to wait till you die."
"No, no, no!" said Sir Simon, irritably. "He must keep away from me for
a time. After all, he is the son of his father, and, bad as Walter was,
I loved him for his mother's sake. As for the Italian woman--"
"Mrs. Gore! She is dead."
"I know she is. But her brother Guiseppe is alive, and a scoundrel he
is. The other day he came to the Hall and tried to force his way into
the house. A gambler, a rogue, Durham--that's what Guiseppe is."
"What is his other name?"
"Tolomeo! He comes from Siena."
"I understood Mrs. Gore--your son's wife--came from Florence."
"So she said. She declared she was the member of a decayed Florentine
family. But afterwards I learned from Guiseppe that the Tolomeo nobles
are Sienese--and a bad lot they are. He is a musician, I believe--a
plausible scamp. I hope he has not got hold of Bernard."
"Bernard is his nephew."
"I know that," snapped the old man. "All the same, the uncle is sadly in
want of money, and would exercise an undue influence over Bernard."
"I don't think Gore is the man to be controlled," said Durham, sagely.
"You don't know. He is young after all. But you know, by the will, I
have put it out of Bernard's power to assist Tolomeo. If he gives him as
much as a shilling the money is lost to him and goes to Lucy."
"That is rather a hard provision," said Durham, after a pause.
"I do it for the boy's good," replied Gore, rising; "but I must get home
now. By the way, about that lease," and the two began to talk of matters
connected with the estate.
Sir Simon after this refused to discuss his erring grandson, but Durham,
who was friendly to Bernard, insisted on recurring to the forbidden
subject. However it was just when the old man was going that he reverted
to the bone of contention, "I wish you would let me tell Bernard that
you are well disposed toward him."
"Ah! you plead for the scamp," said Sir Simon, angrily.
"Well, I was at Eton with him, you know, and we are great friends. If he
is an Imperial Yeoman there will be no difficulty in seeing him."
"Leave matters as they are. I have ascertained that he won't go to the
war for six weeks. Julius found that out for me, so wait till he is on
the eve of sailing. Then we'll see. If nothing else will keep him at
home, I'll make it up. But I think a little hardship will do him good.
He behaved very badly."
"Bernard is naturally hot tempered."
"So am I. Therefore, let us keep apart for a time. Who knows what would
happen did we meet. No, Durham, let Bernard think that I am still angry.
If Lucy sets a lamp in the Red Window that's a different thing. I shan't
interfere with her romance."
"The Red Window. What's that?"
"A silly legend of the Gore family of which you know nothing. I have no
time to repeat rubbish. I'll come and see you again about that lease,
Durham. Meanwhile, should Bernard be hard up, help him out of your own
pocket. I'll make it up to you."
"He wouldn't accept alms. Besides, he has enough to go on with. I have
two hundred of his money in hand."
"Then I have nothing more to say. I'm sorry the fellow isn't starving.
His conduct to me was shameful." And Sir Simon went grumbling home.
"All the same, I'll see Bernard," thought Durham, returning to his
office.