"Your courage much more than your prudence you showed."
Burns.
Lettice received her cousin in the drawing-room. She was, of course,
expecting him, but there was not a touch of nervousness in her manner as
she quietly shook hands with him, and in a friendly, perhaps slightly
patronising tone, as if to put him quite at his ease, hoped that he
found the hotel comfortable, that he had slept well, was not too tired
with his journey, and so on, to all of which Mr Auriol replied with
equal composure. But he was eyeing the young lady all the time, taking
measure of her much more closely than she had any idea of. He observed
her, too, with a certain curiosity as to her appearance. The night
before he had seen her in a subdued light--almost, indeed, in shadow, as
the consciousness of her recent tears had made her avoid coming forward
conspicuously, and he wondered if he should find her as lovely as she
had then appeared.
"She is, and she is not," he decided. "Her features are all that I
pictured them, but the soft sweet expression is gone. Yes, this morning
I can believe her to be both prejudiced and self-willed."
And his glance rested with pleasure on the somewhat anxious but
thoroughly womanly and gentle expression of Nina's fair face, as she
just then entered the room, followed by Arthur.
Mr Auriol looked round him inquiringly.
"Have you any other room at liberty," he said, "where there is perhaps a
large table? There are a number of papers I wish to show you;" and he
touched a packet which he held under his arm.
"We can go into the dining-room," said Lettice, opening a door which led
into it as she spoke; "though, really, Mr Auriol, you need not give
yourself so much trouble. We are perfectly satisfied that our money is
in good hands. Mamma often told me that my father had given himself
immense trouble to place it safely, so that at his death there should be
no trouble; in short, that our trustees would have nothing to do but
leave it as it was."
Mr Auriol made no reply. But when the four were seated round the
dining-table, he deliberately undid his important-looking packet, and
drew from it paper after paper, all neatly labelled and arranged, which
he placed beside him.
"These," he said, touching two mysterious-looking documents, "are the
statements of your capital and of your income. I have had copies made,
so that I can leave these with you, in case you ever wish to refer to
them, as you are all three of an age to understand such matters to a
certain extent. You said just now, Miss Morison, that everything to do
with your money matters had been thoroughly seen to before your father's
death. I _must_ explain to you that all was not as satisfactory as you
imagine. Your father, as he constantly said himself, was not a good man
of business. I am not afraid of your misunderstanding me when I say
this. You cannot but know how deeply attached to him I was, and how
much gratitude I shall always feel to him for much past kindness. I
simply state the fact, with no disparagement to him. When he died his
affairs were exceedingly confused and involved, and I, as one of his
executors--the only one--for, you remember, Colonel Brown died suddenly
just when your father did--hardly knew what to do. And I tell you
honestly that I never could have got things into the satisfactory state
they are now in, but for help which I cannot exaggerate, and from a
quarter where, all things considered, one could little have expected
it."
Mr Auriol paused and looked round him. All the three young faces
expressed strong feeling. On Lettice's there was a look of tension
painful to see. Her lips moved as if she would have asked her cousin to
go on, but no sound came. He understood her, however, and pitying her
heartily, he continued, his eyes fixed on the paper before him.
"That help came from your father's stepbrother, the only son of his
father by his second marriage--the merchant, Mr Ingram Morison."
There was a dead silence. The tears were in Nina's eyes, and Arthur's
face was quivering, but Lettice's was deadly pale and stony. And when
she spoke her voice was so unlike itself that all started.
"Did my mother know this?" she said in a tone which matched the look on
her face.
"Not at first," said Mr Auriol, still avoiding to turn his eyes in her
direction; "not till things were all in order would Mr Morison allow
her to be told anything. He risked very large sums--of course, not so
large to him as to a less wealthy man, but still actually large--to save
your fortune. And, thanks to his great acuteness and experience, he
succeeded most wonderfully, so that at the present time you do not
actually owe him _money_."
"Thank Heaven for that," murmured Lettice.
Mr Auriol turned upon her with a sharp movement of indignation. But
when he went on speaking it was as if continuing his words, and not as
if addressing himself to her in particular.
"But you do owe him, what to a generous mind is never a painful burden,
an _immense_ debt of gratitude."
"Then I recall my words," burst out Lettice. "I wish to Heaven it
_were_ money, that I could work for it--work my fingers to the bone,
till I could repay every farthing. To owe gratitude, that can _not_ be
counted in money, to _that_ man! Oh, it is too much! How dared you do
it?" she flashed out to Godfrey. "How dared you let _him_ interfere?"
"You would rather have had your mother reduced to beggary--you would
rather have had her last days tortured by anxiety for all of you? _She_
did not resent it; she, who had far more right than any of you to be
influenced by the old quarrel, with which Ingram Morison, remember, had
no more to do than I had. _She_ was not ashamed to be grateful and to
show her trust and confidence in him, as you will see, when at last she
knew a great part, though not the whole, of the truth."
"And why did she not tell me, then? Oh, mamma, mamma," wailed Lettice,
forgetful of or indifferent to her cousin's presence, "why did you not
tell me? I thought I had your whole confidence, and to find this out
_now_!"
She shook with sobs, and Godfrey's face softened.
"Lettice," he said, calling her for the first time by her name--though
none of them, himself included, noticed that he did so--"my poor child,
try to be reasonable. Your mother did not intentionally deceive you.
It was only very lately she knew about it. Ingram Morison acted with
the greatest delicacy--exaggerated delicacy, he wanted no one to know
what he had done, and even at the last I could only persuade him to let
me tell her part of it. She meant to tell it to you--gradually, knowing
your strong feelings about it. She wrote so to me. I have the letter.
But evidently she had not time to do so, or she may have found it more
difficult than she expected." And, as he again paused, there rose
before Lettice the remembrance of the morning when her gentle, almost
timid mother, had tried to lead to the subject of the Morison relations,
of her softened feelings towards them, and how she, Lettice, had
repulsed the attempt with decision almost approaching violence, and had
afterwards said to Nina that she thought bodily weakness must be
affecting her mother's judgment. And then, at the last, it had been, or
had _seemed_, as it so often does, so sudden. There had been no time or
strength for more than a whispered blessing before the smile of perfect
peace with which she closed her eyes on this world, had lighted up the
loved, worn features, and she had breathed her gentle soul away.
Lettice sobbed still, but more softly now; and Mr Auriol went on.
"Had she lived, she would, I know, have wished to know the whole, and
wished you all to know it too. And I too confess to some personal
feeling in the matter. I too have some family pride. Your mother was
my cousin--of the same blood. _I_ could not bear that so great a
service should be unrecognised. And, before coming here, I told Mr
Morison that, unless he would consent to my stating the facts to you,
and having no mystery or concealment about it, I would try to throw up
the whole."
"And then?" said Arthur.
"Then," said Mr Auriol slowly, "if you all--though, no, I will not
insult you by supposing such a thing--but _if_ you all retained this
terrible prejudice against an innocent man, things would be still worse,
for he would be your only guardian."
Another blow for Lettice.
"Our guardian!" exclaimed Nina in surprise.
"Yes. By your father's will your mother and I were your guardians, and
while she lived _that_ part of it was merely nominal for me. But she
had the power to appoint another in case of her death. And she did so.
She appointed--"
"_Him_?" exclaimed Nina.
"Yes. Your uncle, or step-uncle, if you prefer to be quite exact--Mr
Ingram Morison," Godfrey replied simply.
Then, without waiting for further remarks, he went on to explain, as
clearly as was possible to such inexperienced ears, a number of business
details--summing up by giving them a clear idea of what money they were
sure of; of some which still remained uncertain, and by making them most
distinctly recognise that, but for their uncle's "interference," the
post of trustee of their possessions would indeed, long before this,
have been a sinecure.
"And now," he said, "there remains only one more duty before we talk
about less painful and overwhelming subjects. I have here your mother's
last letter to me, sending me her will, which she wished me to look
over, as I did, and going on to express her last wishes. Shall I read
it to you, or shall I leave it for you to read alone?"
"Read it now," said Lettice, rather to her brother's and sister's
surprise. For they did not hear the words which she whispered to
herself: "Better drink the cup of bitterness to the dregs, and have it
over."
So Mr Auriol read the letter aloud.
It was a simply expressed but thoughtfully considered letter, with no
word or allusion to distress or wound any of her children. She spoke of
her intention to explain to them these facts which had so recently come
to her knowledge, but that before doing so she would wish to know more--
the whole, in fact--that her words might have the more weight in
overcoming the prejudice which, to a certain extent, she blamed herself
for having, if not encouraged, at least not opposed. "My husband," she
said, "resented his family's behaviour for _my_ sake. I have a right to
do anything I choose towards breaking down the barrier, of which I fear
I was in great measure the unwilling cause. And he, had he lived to
know his brother as I now know him, would have felt with me in this.
For, though he was hasty and impulsive, he was, when he would allow
himself to see things clearly, essentially just. And how can any one
blame Ingram Morison for events which took place when he was a mere
child?" Then she went on to beg Godfrey to convey to her brother-in-law
her deep sense of gratitude for what she already knew, and her hope that
he would accept the guardianship, which no one else would be so fitted
for. She spoke of her children altogether--of the old prejudice as
shared by them all--in no way singling out Lettice as the least
reasonable or persuadable, so that, as she listened, Lettice could not
but feel in her heart that it was thanks to herself alone if she _had_
come to appear so in Mr Auriol's eyes, though it is to be feared that
but small self-blame was the result of this consciousness. And then,
with some general expression of confidence in Godfrey, and in his good
judgment and good feeling, mingled with hopes that she might live long
enough to understand all quite clearly and to make some arrangements for
her children's future, the letter closed.
"I was going to answer this letter," said Mr Auriol--"I could not do so
till I had Mr Morison's permission to tell the whole, which caused some
delay--but I was just going to answer it when I got Arthur's telegram,
telling me of her death. You see, the date is very recent;" and he held
out the letter to Nina, who leant eagerly forward, while Lettice held
herself stiffly aloof. "I managed to see Mr Morison before I came
away--had I not done so, my coming would not have been of much use--and
got his answers to all I had to ask him. And this is what he says. He
accepts the trusteeship of your money unconditionally, for which you
cannot be too thankful. The guardianship which he _might_ legally
decline--for he is not forced to accept what he had not first been asked
about--he accepts, too, but only to a certain extent. He will not
interfere with you in any way disagreeable to you, unless positively
obliged to do so. He leaves details to me: if _I_ am satisfied, he will
be so. At the same time he earnestly _wishes_ to be to you all not only
a guardian but an uncle. I am empowered to invite you all, as soon as
you can leave here, to go to his country house, and remain there as long
as you like--in any case till some definite arrangement can be made for
you."
"_Never_!" exclaimed Lettice, interrupting Mr Auriol. "Nina, Arthur,
you will support me in this?"
Godfrey waited till she was silent, but then, without giving the others
time to reply, he went on. "It is premature for you to give any answer
as yet. Allow me to go on with what I have to say, without interrupting
me, till I have fulfilled my commission. Mr Morison also wished me to
say that, if Arthur has any taste for business, he will give him a
position in his firm such as he would to a son of his own, if he had
one."
Arthur's colour rose, and he seemed as if about to say something, but he
checked himself. Not so Lettice.
"Arthur is going into the army, like papa. He is going up for Woolwich
next Christmas. That has been decided long ago."
Again with ceremonious politeness Mr Auriol waited till she left off
speaking. Then, without taking the slightest notice of what she had
said, he proceeded, "Or, if Arthur chooses any other career, he will do
his best to help him. I think that is the substance of what I have to
say to you from your uncle. You will give me an answer before I leave--
some days before, indeed--the day after to-morrow, suppose we say. It
will be the greatest possible satisfaction to me if you accept your
uncle's invitation. If not, there is no time to be lost in arranging
something else."
"We are quite ready to tell you what we intend doing--now at once, if
you choose," said Lettice.
"Not now. I wish you to think it over, and consult together," he
replied. "And I must tell you frankly that what you _intend_ doing is
not the question. You may tell me what you _wish_, with all freedom;
and if I can, I will help you to carry out your wishes. But if I do
_not_ approve of them, I am bound by every consideration to tell you so,
and to forbid them. If this sounds very ungracious, I am sorry for it,
but I cannot help it. Having undertaken a very,"--here he hesitated,
and evidently substituted a milder word for the one that had been on his
lips--"onerous task, I will carry it out to the best of my power. But
it rests with you three to make it a painful or pleasant one."
He rose as he spoke. Nina rose, too, and held out her hand.
"Thank you, Cousin Godfrey," she said simply, "for all your kindness."
Mr Auriol turned to Lettice.
"Will you, too, not shake hands with me, Lettice?" he said, with a tone
in his voice which touched her a little.
"Of course," she said, rousing herself as it were by an effort. "I can
have no possible reason for _not_ shaking hands with you. I am only
bitterly, most bitterly grieved that we should be, and have been, the
cause of such trouble to you."
"Do not be bitterly grieved, then," he said, smiling. "Give me the
satisfaction of feeling I have been, and may be, of service to you. I
am your kinsman; it is only natural. Be reasonable, and try to trust
those who wish to be true friends to you."
But at these last words he felt the hand, which he had held for a moment
or two, struggle in his grasp, and with an almost inaudible sigh he
released it.
"Will you give me the names, so far as you know them, of the
tradespeople here, and your landlord, and so on?" he said gently. "I
must make up as accurate a statement as I can. There is a great deal
more to do at such times than you have any idea of;" and then he went on
to explain some details--of which till now she had had no idea
whatever--to the rather bewildered girl.
She replied meekly enough; and when he had got the required information,
he went out with Arthur as his guide.