"Dear Teddy,--It sounds very nice, but it's not good enough. You've
mistaken your man, my boy. You'll have to stump up £100 on the day,
and I'll wait a month for the rest and interest. I shall be on the
spot to receive it and join in the festivities. If you are not lying,
you deserve credit for getting rid of the tutor. See he is packed off
before I come; and see I get no more impertinence from those brats of
yours, unless you wish trouble to their father.
"Yours,--
"R.R."
The receipt of this genial epistle considerably marred the pleasure with
which Captain Oliphant looked forward to the approaching festivities at
Maxfield.
It had been bad enough to have the Oxford scheme and all it involved
fall through. Roger had explained in his pleasant manner that he was
not disposed to accept his guardian's advice as to a University course
at present; and as his decision was backed up by both Mrs Ingleton and
Mr Armstrong, the poor man found himself in a minority, and no nearer a
solution to his difficulties than before.
In addition to this, Roger was every day recovering health, and, in
Rosalind's absence, devoting himself more loyally than ever to his
tutor's direction and instruction.
Altogether Captain Oliphant had a dismal consciousness of being out in
the cold. His carefully thought cut plans seemed to advance no further.
Mrs Ingleton's ill-health was an unlooked-for difficulty. He even
began to suspect that when he did screw himself up to the point of
proposing he should make by no means as easy a conquest of the fair
widow as he had flattered himself. She, good lady, liked him as her
boy's guardian, but in his own personal capacity was disappointingly
indifferent to his attentions.
With all these worries upon him it was little wonder if Mr Ratman's
letters hurt his feelings.
He was very much inclined to throw up the sponge and vanish from the
Maxfield horizon, and might have attempted the feat had not a letter
which arrived on the following day suggested another way out of his
difficulties. It came from America, addressed to the late Squire, and
read thus--
"Dear Ingleton,--I guess you've forgotten the scape-grace brother-in-
law who, thirty-six years ago, on the day you married his sister Ruth,
borrowed a hundred pounds of you without the slightest intention of
paying you back. He has not forgotten you. Your hundred pounds
started me in life right away here, where I am now a boss and mayor of
my city. I've put off being honest as long as I can, but can't well
manage it any longer. I send you back the money in English bank-
notes, and another hundred for interest. It won't do you much good,
but I reckon I'll sleep better at night to have got rid of it. I saw
in the papers the death of my sister, and her son, my nephew. Such is
life! I got more good from that marriage than she did. I take for
granted you are still in the old place, and, like all the Ingletons I
ever met, alive and kicking.
"Yours out of debt,--
"Ralph Headland."
Captain Oliphant read and re-read this curious letter, and hummed a tune
to himself. He gave a professional twitch to each of the hundred-pound
notes, and held them up one after the other to the light. Then he
examined the post-mark on the envelope, and failed to decipher the name
of the town.
"Very singular," said he to himself, tapping his fingers on the
envelope. "Quite like a chapter in a story. Really it restores one's
faith in one's fellow-man to find honesty asserting itself in this way
after thirty-six years' suppression. Our dear one must have forgotten
this debt years ago; or written it off as a gift. I'm sure he would not
have liked to accept it now. Very singular indeed!"
Then he hummed on for five minutes, and tried to recall what he had been
thinking about before the letter came. He fancied it was about Ratman.
Yes, Ratman was a bad man, and must be got rid of, not so much on the
captain's account as for the sake of the innocent darlings whose
happiness he threatened.
And as if there were some connection between the two ideas, captain
Oliphant abstractedly put the two notes into his own pocket, and
proceeded thoughtfully to tear up the letter and envelope of the
American mayor.
He had hardly completed this function when the door opened and Rosalind
sailed in, looking particularly charming after a breezy walk across the
park.
She had rarely seen her father in better and more amiable spirits.
"Ah, my dear child," said he; "it does one good to see you again. A
week's absence is a long time. And how are you getting on at the
Vicarage?"
"They are awfully kind to me," said Rosalind, "and I like my little
pupils. I half wish it was harder work. As it is, I get time for a
little art in between lessons. I've come over to-day to finish my
picture of the old tower for Roger's birthday."
"Ah, to be sure. The dear boy's birthday is getting near. We shall
depend on you to help us here on the day, Rosalind. So they make you
happy, do they? I am very glad to hear it. Have you all you want?"
"Everything, dear father; and it makes all the difference to me to feel
I am supporting myself."
"Brave little puss. See now," added the fond parent, taking out a
couple of sovereigns from his purse.
"I want you to take these to get any little trifle which may add to your
comfort. I have not been very lavish with pocket-money, but I think
just now you may find this useful. Take it, my dear child, and bless
you."
"Really, I have all I--"
"You must not refuse me, daughter; it will please me if you take it."
So Rosalind kissed her father gratefully, and said she should be sure to
find the money useful, if he could really spare it. And he, good man,
only wished it were twice as much.
"I have just had a note," said he, "from Mr Ratman, who announces his
return on the 25th. During the few days he remains, my dear Rosalind, I
think you should try, even if it cost you an effort, to be friendly.
After all, he is an old comrade, and I have reasons for desiring not to
offend him."
"Oh, why ever do you let him come back after the unkind way he behaved
to Jill? I'm sure he is a bad man, father. Indeed, I wonder at his
thinking of coming at all after what has happened."
"I dare say his manner may have been rough; but it was meant only in
good-natured fun. Let us think no more about that. I was annoyed at
the whole affair; but I must ask you, Rosalind, not to give him
unnecessary offence when he comes again."
"I can't pretend to like people I detest," said she; "but if he conducts
himself like a gentleman, and goes away soon, there needn't be any
trouble about it." And she went off to rejoice Roger with a visit.
During the week that followed, Captain Oliphant impressed the whole
family with his chastened good-humour.
He paid a friendly call at the Vicarage, and expressed his obligations
to the vicar and his wife for their consideration, and trusted his
daughter, who (though he said so who should not), he was sure was a
conscientious girl--would do her work well and requite them for their
kindness.
He bought Tom his longed-for football, and ordered from town a handsome
dressing-case for his dear ward. He delighted Miss Jill by allowing her
to drive him in his rounds among the tenantry, when he had a friendly
word for everybody.
Jill, in charge of the reins, was as happy as a queen, and quite
captivated by her father's cheerful good-humour.
"I wonder what makes you so jolly," she said, as they spanked along the
country lanes to Yeld, "dear, dear old daddy? I shall always drive you
now, for you see I can manage the pony, can't I? Mr Armstrong taught
me. He says I shall make a first-rate whip. I'm sure I was very stupid
when I first tried; but he is ever so patient. He scolds sometimes, but
he always lets me know when he's pleased; so I don't mind. Do you know,
father, I'd give my head for Mr Armstrong any day, I like him so?"
Captain Oliphant shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't equal to coping with
a case of sheer infatuation.
"I'm sure," persisted Jill, flicking the pony into a trot, "he's fifty
million times as nice as that horrible Mr Ratman."
"Mr Ratman is a friend of mine," said her father, "and I fear he must
think you a very silly little girl to object to a bit of fun as you
did."
"I don't mind what he thinks. It wasn't fun at all. He hurt me very
much. Ugh!"
"Well, he was very much annoyed, and so was I, at what happened; and
when he comes here again next week--"
"Is he coming again next week?"
"Yes."
"All right. I shall run away then--or if I can't do that, I shall keep
a knife in my pocket. _Please_, father, don't let him come!"
And the child nearly cried in her eagerness.
"Listen to me, Jill," said her father sternly. "Unless you can behave
yourself sensibly I shall be very angry indeed. I expect you to be
polite to Mr Ratman while he is here."
"He'd better be polite to young ladies," said the irrepressible Jill.
"If he doesn't, I know somebody who will make him."
"Be silent, miss, and bear in mind my wishes."
That afternoon Captain Oliphant sent a polite message to his co-trustee
requesting the favour of an interview.
Mr Armstrong found him in an unusually balmy frame of mind, anxious to
go into the executorship accounts.
Everything was square and exact. The rents and other receipts were all
in order, and the amount duly paid into the bank. The tutor quite
admired his colleague's aptitude for figures, and the lucid manner in
which he accounted for every farthing which had passed through his
hands. He was hardly prepared for such precision, and there and then
modified the previous bad impression he had formed.
"It is necessary to be particular in money matters," said the captain,
"especially where the money of others is involved. Perhaps you will
check my figures, sir, and let me know if you agree in the result."
Mr Armstrong spent an afternoon painfully going over the agent's and
banker's accounts, and satisfying himself that all was absolutely
correct and in order. He countersigned the balance-sheet, and went out
of his way to thank Captain Oliphant for taking so much of the labour as
to save both him and Mrs Ingleton a great deal of time.
"Thank you," said the captain drily; "a compliment from Signor Francisco
is worth receiving. But it is uncalled-for. Good afternoon, sir."
Mr Armstrong flushed, and screwed his glass violently in his eye.
"A civil, pleasant-spoken gentleman," said he to himself as he returned
to his room.
A few days later, the day before the birthday, Captain Oliphant received
a telegram couched in the following lordly terms--
"Arrive 5.30. Send trap to meet me.--Ratman."
He frowned to himself as he read it. The tone did not betoken peace.
It rather called to mind a good many unpleasant reflections, the chief
of which was that Mr Ratman would find matters no further advanced as
regarded the widow, the heir, or the tutor. The only comfort was that
he could hardly make himself disagreeable about the bill.
The coachman was sent down with the dogcart; but if Mr Ratman expected
any further demonstration of welcome, he was disappointed. Mrs
Ingleton was in bed; Jill was dining at the Rectory; Roger and Armstrong
were taking a long ride; Tom was poaching on the Maxfield preserves.
Only Captain Oliphant was at home.
"Oh, you're here to receive me, are you?" snarled the visitor. "How
long has it taken you to organise this flattering reception, I should
like to know?"
"I really have nothing to do with other persons' arrangements," said the
captain. "If they happen to be out, it's not my concern."
"But it's mine. You ought to have sent the heir down to meet me--I've
not seen him yet--and had those girls of yours here to give me afternoon
tea. Where are they?"
The captain attempted to explain.
"That won't do for me," said the visitor, "not by any means. They
should have been on the spot. When did the tutor leave?"
"He is still here."
"Still here!" said Ratman, with a curse. "Didn't I tell you he was to
be packed off before I came?"
"You said a good many things, Ratman. I expected he would have gone a
fortnight ago; but he can't be moved."
Ratman growled out a string of oaths.
"Get me some tea," said he, "and tell them to take my traps upstairs.
What time do we dine?"
"I was going to propose that we should dine together in my room at
seven," said the captain.
"Not good enough. I'll dine with the lot of you at the big table. And
now, about my bill."
Now was the captain's turn.
"What about it?" said he.
"What about it? I want the money for it--that's what's about it."
"All right, keep your temper. You shall have the hundred to-morrow when
it's due."
Ratman glanced up at his host with a leer.
"Whose till have you been robbing now?" he said.
Captain Oliphant frowned.
"You haven't a very genial way about you, Ratman. Try a cigar."
"Oh, bless you," said he, "I ask no questions. It's all one to me, so
long as it's solid pounds, shillings and pence."
"You wait till to-morrow, and it will be all right," said the Captain;
"and meanwhile, my dear fellow, try to make yourself agreeable, and
don't spoil sport by being unreasonably exacting. Ah, here's the tea!"
At dinner that evening, Mr Ratman found his only companions Captain
Oliphant, Roger, and Mr Armstrong. The talk was difficult, the captain
working hard to give his guest a friendly lead; Mr Armstrong trying to
appear oblivious of the fact that he had knocked the fellow down twice
for a cad; and Roger as head of the house, trying to be affable to a
person whom he had expected to find detestable, and who quite came up to
expectations.
As the meal went on Mr Ratman showed alarming symptoms of requiring no
friendly lead to encourage his powers of conversation. Despite his
host's deprecatory signals, he began to tell stories of an offensive
character, and joke about matters not generally held to be amusing in a
company of gentlemen. Captain Oliphant grew hot and nervous. Mr
Armstrong leant back coolly in his chair, and kept his eye curiously on
the speaker, an apparently interested listener. Roger, after the first
surprise, flushed wrathfully and fidgeted ominously with his napkin
ring.
He was nearly at the end of his tether, and an awkward scene might have
ensued, had not Tom opportunely broken in upon the party, very hungry
and flushed with a good afternoon's sport.
"Hullo, Ratman!" said he, greeting the visitor; "turned up again? Got
over your black eye all right? I've told Armstrong to let me know when
the next mill comes off, and I'll hold the sponge? Been telling them
some of your rummy stories? I roared over that you told me about the--"
"Be quiet, Tom, and go and wash yourself before dinner," said his
father.
"All right. But I say, Ratman, you'd better steer clear of my young
sister Jill. She's got a downer on you, and so has--"
"Do you hear, sir?" shouted the father.
Somehow this genial interruption robbed Mr Ratman of his ideas, and
stopped the flow of his discourse, much to the relief of the remainder
of the party.
"Well?" said Mr Armstrong, when he and his ward met afterwards in the
room of the latter, "how do you like our new visitor?"
"So badly that I am thankful for once that Rosalind has gone."
Mr Armstrong looked hard at his ward for a moment. Then he twitched
his glass uncomfortably, and replied in an absent sort of way--
"Quite so--quite so."