"I don't suppose it's jollier than this."
"Before you go," said the old lady, sitting up in her chair, "there's
something I want to say to you."
"Yes, auntie," said Godfrey, staring at her, while Guy said, "Yes?"
politely.
"You both know how Waynflete has been got back for the family. By hard
work, and doing of duty, and courage. When my heart is set on a thing,
lads, I don't fear trouble. I don't fear man, and I've no need to fear
the devil, since I know I'm in the right. And I never shall fear what
folks may say of any course I choose to follow. I'm an old woman, and I
tell you that a single aim always hits the mark."
As she spoke in her strong voice, and looked at the lads with her strong
eyes, Guy felt that the manifesto had a purpose. Godfrey listened quite
simply as to an improving remark.
"You know how, bit by bit, your great-uncle Palmer and I have got
Waynflete back. And I've often told you how _my_ great-uncle Guy lost
it?"
"Oh yes, auntie," said Godfrey, cheerfully. "He got screwed, and then
made up a cock-and-bull story about the family ghost stopping him at the
bridge. Awful bad lot he must have been. Then he died, didn't he, and
Maxwell of Ouseley had the place till _he_ went to the bad, and had to
sell it?"
"Yes, he died delirious, and my grandfather was turned out to make his
way in the world. So you see, 'twas self-indulgence, drinking and
gambling that lost the place, and ruined the family."
"I don't think my namesake deserves all the blame," said Guy. "His
father, as I understand the story, got him into a pretty tight place."
"He had his chance, Guy, and he lost it by his cowardice--if, as some
think, he was stopped by highwaymen, or by his vicious habits, if he was
drunk. He was a very fine gentleman, I've heard; played the fiddle,
Guy, and wrote verses; but that was no stand-by in his hour of need."
"The family ghost, himself," said Guy, in a slow, dry voice, "seems to
have been an unpleasant person to know."
"Ay; there was a young Waynflete who betrayed his friend in Monmouth's
rebellion, to save his own life. He went mad, and shot himself--as the
story runs--so ignorant folk say his ghost haunts Waynflete, and think,
when the wind blows, they hear his horse galloping."
"That Guy who was too late was an awful duffer, if he wasn't drunk!"
said Godfrey. "I'd have got over the river, ghost or highwayman, or
been killed on the spot."
"It's not a nice story," said Guy. "I should think Waynflete was
haunted by all their ghosts!"
"Ghost-stories are very proper for old families," said Mrs Waynflete;
"but of course no one believes them. There, it's a disgraceful story;
take it as a warning. You'd better get ready for dinner."
She rose and walked out of the room as she spoke, with a quick, firm
step, while Guy laughed rather scornfully.
"What an anachronism the dear old lady is!" he said. "As if all the
world depended on Waynflete!"
"I don't know what you mean!" said Godfrey, angrily. "I think she's an
awfully splendid old woman to have stuck to her point all her life and
won it. Catch a highwayman stopping me!"
"My unlucky namesake said it was a ghost."
"Well, but it wasn't, you know. There aren't any."
"You're the right heir for Aunt Margaret, Godfrey. She ought to leave
you Waynflete."
"Why; you're the eldest," said Godfrey; "she says interfering with
natural laws is wicked."
"If primogeniture _is_ a natural law?"
"It's the law of England," said Godfrey, as if that settled the point.
Guy laughed again.
"Ah, Godfrey," he said, "you'll always get past the ghosts! Well, the
visit will be rather jolly. I've a great curiosity about Waynflete, and
at least it will be clean. I agree with Ruskin that smoke is sinful."
"There's a great deal of rot in Ruskin," said Godfrey, "and you ought
not to say things are sinful, when they ain't. Plenty of things are."