THE NEW LAIRD OF LOMORE.
The three occupants of the housekeeper's room took the unexpected
visitors in very different and characteristic ways. The housekeeper
became what Vava called more 'feverish' than ever; Stella stared in
grave surprise at this liberty on the part of the butler; while Vava
grew red with anger, and, guessing at once what it meant, cried
indignantly, 'How dare they come walking over our house before we are
out of it? Stella, why don't you go and tell David he ought to be
ashamed of himself letting them in? What is he thinking of to take such
a liberty?'
Stella turned her eyes, which justified her name, and looked at her
excited younger sister. She had not understood the meaning of the
intrusion until her quicker-witted sister told her, and she was not too
pleased herself at old David's behaviour, which even she, quiet and
attached to the old servant as she was, felt was taking too much upon
himself.
But, before she could speak, the old housekeeper broke in, rather
nervously, 'Miss Stella, dearie, you must not be angry with David; it's
my fault as well as his; we only wanted to save you both worry and
annoyance; and so it would, for you would never have known aught about
it but for David bringing them in here. He must be daft, after my
telling him he was to be sure and keep them out of your sight.'
'But I don't understand. I suppose these are the people who want to take
the house, and, if so, of course they wish to see it? Still, I think
they should have written just to ask my leave; and, at any rate, David
should have done so before he showed them over our house,' Stella
answered with dignity.
'That's just it; you don't understand, my bairn; and I don't rightly
understand it myself. It's their house--something about a mortgage--now
the poor Laird's gone, and they only waited until he was under the
ground to come tearing up from London in their motor to look at their
property, and it was more than David could do to put them off, and so,
sooner than have you troubled by their impudence'----said the
housekeeper.
'It is not very considerate, perhaps, but they have a right to ask to
see their own house without being called impudent; and though you mean
it kindly, nursie, you and David, I think I should know what is going on
in this house,' interrupted Stella.
'We'd just better get out of it as soon as we can. Mrs. Stacey came to
ask us to go and stay with them; she told me to give you the invitation.
But I'd rather go to the manse; Mrs. Monro would be sure to take us!'
cried Vava.
However, before Vava had uttered the last word, another knock came at
the door, and in answer to Stella's 'Come in!' David M'Taggart entered,
looking rather shamefaced. In broad Scotch, which it will perhaps be
best to spare English readers, he said, 'I'm sorry to trouble you, Miss
Stella, but the leddy will not take no for an answer; she wants to see
you.'
Stella unconsciously put on her most dignified air, and said, 'I do not
understand why she should wish to see me. It is the house they have
bought, not us; and if she wishes to know when it will be at her
disposal, you may tell her we will be out of it'--she hesitated a
moment, and her voice trembled as she added, 'as soon as we can move the
furniture; in a week, if possible.'
Still David lingered. 'It's just that--the furniture, I mean--that
she'll be after, I'm thinking. I know it's hard on you, missie. But you
must just be brave and the Laird's daughter; and, if you could make up
your mind to it, just see the leddy and her husband; they're no' bad,
though they're no' the quality.'
David M'Taggart had nursed Stella in his arms as a baby, and had been
the old Laird's right hand. In fact, when Mr. Wharton was deep in his
literary labours, David had kept things about the place straighter than
they would otherwise have been; and if his education had been better,
and he had been allowed, he would probably have managed the money
matters of his late master, and prevented the Laird allowing them to get
into the disastrous state they were found to be in after his death, of
which state the late Laird was, happily for him, though unfortunately
for his daughters, quite ignorant.
Stella listened to David's advice, and replied, 'Very well, David, I
will see this lady. What is her name?'
'It's a fine name--Mrs. Montague Jones she calls herself; but it's with
him I'd do business, if I may be so bold as to say so, for he's a fair
man, and not so keen on a bargain as she.'
To this piece of advice the girl made no reply, but followed the old
butler out of the room and down the wide staircase to the drawing-room.
At the door she paused involuntarily, as David threw it open for her and
announced, 'This is Miss Wharton, mem.'
The short, thick-set business man, who was standing looking out of one
of the windows, turned sharply round at the words; and, as he told his
wife afterwards, was 'fairly taken aback to see that beautiful young
lady standing there like a princess in the doorway and looking down upon
us.'
And his wife--a handsome woman herself, who was sitting at a table
examining some old silver, of which the Laird had a fine
collection--though she answered him rather sharply to the effect that
the 'looking down' ought to be on their side rather than the Whartons',
was conscious somehow of a feeling of inferiority. However, she rose,
and, coming forward, said civilly and kindly enough, 'I must apologise,
Miss Wharton, for this intrusion, and it's only because I think we may
be able to be of use to you'----Here Mrs. Montague Jones stopped
abruptly, for Stella's pride had risen, and she stiffened visibly.
'My wife doesn't mean that, Miss Wharton. What we wished to ask was a
favour to us, for which we would willingly make a return. I'm a business
man, and you are a young lady who knows nothing about business,' Mr.
Montague Jones now put in.
But Stella did not look any better pleased as she answered civilly but
distantly, 'In that case would it not be better to address yourself to
our lawyer, who is a man of business?' Stella had been her father's
secretary for so long that she spoke in a slightly stilted English with
a Scotch accent.
'Quite right, and so we did, but he told us he could do nothing without
you'--Mr. Stacey had said that he could do nothing _with_ her on this
particular matter--'and we have taken the liberty of coming straight to
the fountain-head, so to speak. It's about this furniture now.'
But Stella interrupted hastily, 'I am afraid you have given yourself
unnecessary trouble'--and her looks said 'and me too'--'for I have no
intention of parting with it.'
A gleam came into the man's eye, whether of anger at her haughtiness or
admiration at the spirit which could refuse a possibly advantageous
business offer was not clear, with poverty staring her in the face; but
he laid a hand on his wife's arm to prevent her speaking, and continued
quietly, and in a kind and friendly tone, 'No one has asked you to do
that, Miss Wharton. I feel with you that however valuable furniture or
silver or that kind of thing may be, it is doubly valuable to the owner,
especially when, as in your case, it has been in the family for a long
time, and I should be the last to counsel you to part with it.'
Miss Wharton looked surprised, and so did Mrs. Jones, who stared at her
husband in amazement.
'In that case, I fail to see'----began the girl, and then hesitated.
'You fail to see what proposal I have to make about the furniture? If
you'll have a little patience I'll tell you. I've just seen your lawyer,
and a very nice man he is, and has your interests at heart, for which
you may be thankful, as they are not all so. I hear you are thinking of
going to London. Now, you can't take all this fine furniture with you;
it would get knocked to pieces on the way there, besides costing no end
of money, and you'd want a mansion to put it in when you got there,
which you won't have just yet, though you will have again one day, I
hope. Now what, may I ask, do you mean to do with it?'
'I don't know. I shall warehouse it here, I suppose,' said Stella, who
had no clear ideas on the subject.
'That's just what I was going to suggest. Why not leave it all here,
with the exception of any little things or specially valuable belongings
that you 'd like to put away, and let us pay a fair sum for the use of
them. They'll not spoil, for they are old and well-made, and there'll
only be the wife and me and Jamie, that's our son and heir--ahem! a
quiet, well-behaved young fellow--and none of us will knock it about;
besides, your man M'Taggart has agreed--condescended I might say--to
stay on with us for the present, and he'll be free to write and tell you
if it's being badly used; and we'll put a clause in the agreement that
if M'Taggart thinks it is in bad hands you have the right to order its
removal in twenty-four hours,' announced Mr. Jones.
'Really, Monty'----cried his wife; but her husband pressed her arm, and
patiently waited for Stella's reply.
The girl puckered her brows; it would be a way out of the difficulty.
But she did not feel equal to settling the matter herself, and answered
doubtfully, 'If Mr. Stacey approves, I should have no objection--that is
to say, I would agree; but I should like some of my mother's things put
away.'
'Oh of course, we quite understand that, Miss Wharton, and we will have
everything put down in black and white by your lawyer,' said Mr.
Montague Jones.
Stella, who had taken the seat offered her by her undesired visitor, now
rose to put an end to the interview; and then a sudden thought struck
her. These people had motored from the south, and perhaps had come far
that day--at any rate from the nearest town, a good many miles off--and
she had not even offered them a cup of tea, and her Scotch hospitality
forbade her to let them depart without doing so much. She accordingly
offered it, and Mrs. Jones accepted the offer so gladly that her young
hostess felt ashamed of herself; and, ringing the bell, she ordered in
tea.
The interval of waiting might have been rather awkward; but not long
after David had answered the summons the door opened, and in walked
Vava.
Mr. and Mrs. Jones had an idea that Scotch girls in general were plain
and hard-featured, hence their surprise at Stella's appearance; and
Vava, though she was at an awkward age, and had not Stella's beauty, was
a bright, fresh-looking girl, with merry, laughing eyes which no trouble
could dim for long, and she too fitted in with her surroundings.
'How do you do? David will bring the tea in a minute, and there are
still some scones left,' she announced, without waiting to be
introduced.
Mr. Jones shook her hand heartily. 'That's good hearing; we lunched
early, and I've been with lawyers ever since, and worried with business,
about which you luckily know nothing; and scones--which we poor ignorant
Londoners call "scoones"--sounds very inviting.'
'So they are, deliciously inviting; but as for your business, I just do
know something about it,' Vava observed.
'Vava!' cried Stella horrified.
Mr. Jones laughed, not in the least embarrassed, though he had not meant
to be taken up so. 'Ah well, business is business and pleasure is
pleasure, and I don't believe in mixing them, though some people do.
Business is over for this afternoon, and now I am having the pleasure of
making your acquaintance.'
'Do you go to school, Miss Wharton?' inquired his wife, putting the
first question ladies seem invariably to put to girls in their teens.
'No, but I am going to a day-school when we get to London. Do you know
any nice ones there, not too dear?' inquired Vava.
Stella coloured hotly, and looked despairingly at Vava, who was
evidently in a mood to say dreadful things, as Stella considered them.
But Mr. Jones stepped into the breach. 'If you take my advice you'll go
to my school; it's one of the best in London.'
'Do you keep a school? I didn't know rich people did that,' said Vava.
'I don't keep it exactly, but I am chairman of the governors, and on
speech-days I go there, dressed in my chain and brass breastplate and
things, and listen to how all the girls have been getting on, and I
frown at the idle ones, and praise the good ones, and if you were to
come there I should praise and clap you. It's a first-class school
though the fees are very low,' he wound up, as if this were an important
detail.
'Nothing is decided yet,' said Stella, rather shortly, and frowning at
the too candid Vava.
'No, and of course there is no hurry; and, if you will excuse my talking
of business, I should like just to say that if you wished to stay here a
month or more we should be delighted. As for that school, it is a famous
City foundation, and I will send you the prospectus when I return home,
if you will allow me,' said Mrs. Jones, whom tea and scones had made
quite friendly.
'A City school!' said Vava. 'Is that a charity school?'
'Oh dear no!' cried Mrs. Jones hastily. 'My niece used to go there.'
Stella gave a ghost of a smile, but said nothing; and soon her visitors
left, with profuse thanks and promises to see the lawyer and let him
arrange matters.
It was consequently with lightened hearts that the two orphans stood
looking after their visitors in the darkening day.