THE REAL GUARDIAN OF HAMILTON
“Alec Carden was a man of middle age when I was a young woman.” Miss
Susanna’s characteristically brusque tones shattered the brief silence.
“He had never liked Uncle Brooke, simply because Uncle Brooke was
upright and he was not. Neither had my uncle liked him. As an older man
of wide experience Uncle Brooke once or twice advised Alec Carden
against certain enterprises in which he had engaged. Each time the
advice was flouted. Carden chose to regard him as an interfering old
meddler.
“Uncle Brooke made his will years before he died. He never changed it.
From the time he built Hamilton College he knew precisely what was
important to its welfare. He knew, too, what would be best for it in
time to come. He went over the will with me, often and carefully. He was
determined that I should thoroughly understand every clause of it.”
Every sentence of the old lady’s narrative fell clear-cut from her lips.
“He had divided his wealth, which was very great, equally between me and
the college, aside from a few bequests to the servants and a special
legacy to Jonas. He used to say to me whimsically, on occasion: ‘I’ve
already given my college a large fortune, Susanna, and I’ve only given
you a home and a little spending money. But you can get along with a
little, and my college cannot. Besides, I’m here to look after you. When
I’m gone, it’s you and my college; share and share alike.’”
“Miss Susanna,” Marjorie spoke as the old lady paused briefly, “may I
please put that in the biography?” Forgotten for the moment were all her
misgivings. She was not thinking of herself as biographer. She was
desirous that such valuable matter should not be left out of the
biography itself.
“So you’ve decided to make the best of it,” laughed the old lady. “Oh, I
knew what I was doing when I chose you as his biographer. Since I’ve
surrendered, I’ve surrendered unconditionally. I wish the world to know
his little quirks and turns, his fancies and his whimsies.”
“It is indeed a pleasure to contemplate the thought of Miss Dean as
Brooke Hamilton’s biographer,” gallantly supplemented President
Matthews.
“I thank you both.” Marjorie’s sunshiny smile flashed briefly forth. It
faded, leaving her beautiful features unusually grave. “Perhaps hearing
these delightful personal memories of him will give me the inspiration
to do him justice,” she said very humbly. “I can only try to write his
story. If I fail—”
“You can’t fail,” broke in Miss Hamilton. “There is no such word as fail
in your vocabulary.” She reached out and patted Marjorie’s arm. “Now you
and the doctor are to listen to a letter of instruction which Uncle
Brooke gave me, sealed, a year before he died.”
She took from a morocco handbag a letter, held it up and pointed to the
superscription: “‘For Susanna. Not to be opened until after my death:’”
she read. She drew the letter from its envelope. “I prefer to read it to
you,” she explained. “You may examine it afterward as much as you like.”
She began:
“DEAR SUSANNA:
“I have just come from an afternoon spent with Mr. Walpole, my
lawyer. I have arranged with him in a codicil certain matters
pertaining to Hamilton College. I must now acquaint you with
these. You must be fitly equipped to carry out my wishes in
regard to my college when I have gone on to a world of blessed
fulfillment, which can never be here.
“I love my college, Susanna. Because I love it I must leave
nothing undone to safeguard its welfare. My ancestors left me
the land. I gave the site, my money erected the buildings,
endowed the college. My brain, heart and mind acted as one in
bringing beauty to the campus. It is the child of my heart,
Susanna. It must not, shall not depart from the near perfection
to which I have raised it. I have gloried in the spirit of
democracy that has developed among the students as a result of
my own thoughtful planning. But the past three years have marked
a change. A certain element of arrogance and false pride has
stolen into the college with the enrollment of a few students
who come from homes of affluence.
“The present Board are not in favor of conducting Hamilton
College on the basis of nobility which I believe should be
particularly the foundation of an institution of learning. They
are desirous of commercializing the campus. They are possessed
to ruin its natural beauty by dotting it thickly with ornate
halls and houses. Such as these for the accommodation of a few
students who can afford to pay extravagant prices for board and
lodging. These sordid schemers are eager to take advantage of
the fact that I have fitted and endowed Hamilton magnificently.
They intend to put their stupid, ignoble ideas into force as
soon as I am gone. I overheard one of them say to another at a
Board meeting not long ago: ‘When he is out of the running we
shall have a free sweep.’ They imagine that with my death
Hamilton College will achieve freedom from the direction of a
Hamilton, and with it a vast fortune. The board dreams of
unlimited power to spend my money, and with no restraint.
“You are to assume my responsibility, Susanna. It is a great
deal to ask of you. But to whom else can I turn? You know I have
divided my wealth between you and the college. Its half of the
inheritance may be distributed to the Board as a whole, or in
payments; at your discretion. Nothing is to be either added or
taken away from the campus without your consent. You are to
retain the right to administrate my estate as you are convinced
would be pleasing to me. The fees of the college are never to be
increased. With Mr. Walpole you will find complete directions in
regard to the offering of various scholarships which I have
arranged to be offered in the course of time. I have also left,
with him certain other welfare plans for the college. It will be
your task to fulfill these for me should the Messenger come for
me before I have had the time and opportunity to act.
“_Never allow the Board to intimidate you or beat you down._ It
is the old story of the man who took home the frozen viper and
warmed it, only to find that when life returned to it it had no
will save to sting. So it is with the very men I have helped to
present membership of the Board. There will one day be bitter
resentment when these same men learn that I have protected
Hamilton College against their vandalism. Remember, Susanna,
resentment can break no bones; neither can it change that which
was written to remain unchanged. I feel more at ease since I
have written this to you. I rely upon your pride as a Hamilton,
your loyalty and your good judgment to uphold the work of my
hands.
“With constant affection,
“BROOKE HAMILTON.”
“A letter in keeping with what we have known of Brooke Hamilton before
today,” was the president’s thoughtful attribute to the founder of
Hamilton College.
“It was his mind in the matter. By it you can understand the situation
as it was then better than from an explanation of it on my part,”
rejoined Miss Hamilton. “It remains for me to tell you what happened
between the Board and me after Uncle Brooke had passed away. Mr. Walpole
appointed a day and hour for the reading of the will at the Arms. The
Board attended the reading to a member in the interest of Hamilton
College. They raised a hub-hub immediately they learned that Uncle
Brooke had secured the college against their commerciality.
“Alec Carden was infuriated. He lost his temper, shook a fist in Mr.
Walpole’s and my face and shouted that no fool of a girl should stand
between the college and its rights. He rushed from the house shouting:
‘I’ll find a way to break that fool will!’” Miss Susanna’s eyes flashed
as she recalled the affront. “All but two of the Board members hurried
after him. William Graves and Caleb Frazer had taken no part in the
fuss. They had been true friends of Uncle Brooke’s. They assured Mr.
Walpole and me of their regret in the matter.”
“Afterward, they refused to discuss the unfortunate incident with
anyone,” commented Dr. Matthews. “This I learned from Doctor Burns. They
were his staunch supporters during his long service as president of
Hamilton College. The doctor had a great deal of trouble with Mr.
Carden.”
“I am aware of that,” nodded Miss Susanna. “It was frequently remarked
in the borough that how Alec Carden managed to keep himself on the
college Board was a mystery. He was a violent man. He quarreled
disgracefully with both of his sons. One of them stuck to him and
inherited Carden Hedge when his father died. The other took a package of
bonds which belonged to him from the family safe and ran off to
California. He changed his name, so the story goes, engaged in a lucky
speculation and grew rich. He never came back to Carden Hedge. His
father never saw him again, though he wrote him repeatedly to come home.
Alec died of apoplexy. Indulging in one of his fits of rage, he had a
seizure. John Carden still lives at the Hedge, off and on. He turned out
as disagreeable as was his father. Peter was a multimillionaire at last
accounts of him.
“Alec Carden kept his word. He tried to break the will and have the
codicil set aside. Just when I needed his help most Mr. Walpole died.
Then I engaged Richard Garrett, a young lawyer, but very brilliant. He
stood between me and Carden’s worst attacks. But I had plenty of
disagreeable scenes with Alec Carden and his Board sympathizers. They
got it through their scheming heads at last that Uncle Brooke had been
too wise for them. Then they tried to patch up their quarrel with me and
wheedle me into letting them have their own way about things. I soon
sent them all about their business. From that time it was war to the
knife between us. I refused ever to admit the belligerents to the Arms
or to meet them elsewhere in the interests of college business. All
checks for disbursements and papers were forwarded to me by Richard
Garrett.
“At the beginning of my trouble with Carden I had talked with Doctor
Burns about the writing of Uncle Brooke’s biography. Uncle Brooke had
greatly liked the doctor. I wished him to undertake the biography.
Before I had collected the data for it I got into the thick of the fight
with Carden and the Board. Carden circulated calumnious reports about
Uncle Brooke. Uncle Brooke had been a miser; he had made his fortune in
slave trading in the South Seas. He had also been suspected of piracy on
the high seas. He had commanded South American filibustering
expeditions. It was grossly false; outrageous. And all because he had
been in the exporting business in China.
“Such reports reached the students of Hamilton College. I came in for
very brutal criticism from the girls there. I could not go for a walk
along the highway without meeting some of them and encountering
everything from covert to open ridicule. So I came to despise those whom
he had wished me to like. The story’s almost done.” Miss Susanna’s face,
shadowed by the sorrow of the past, brightened beautifully.
“I still intended that Doctor Burns should begin the biography until one
day Alec Carden and I met on the highway near the Arms. He stopped me
and said I would be sorry if I attempted to publish a biography of Uncle
Brooke. He threatened to follow it with what he declared would be a true
story of ‘my sneak uncle’s pirate doings in the East.’ He said he had
gathered enough information against him to make a most interesting
pamphlet which he intended to have printed and published at his own
expense to follow the biography. He was as explosive in his talk as
usual. He declared that Doctor Burns was in sympathy with _him_, not me;
that he had merely consented to write the biography to keep in my good
graces. There was a chance that I might be flattered into turning over
to the Board the authority they lacked.
“I did not believe a word he said. I told him so. I went straight to the
Arms and wrote to Doctor Burns.” The old lady paused. She brought one
small hand down over the other with a sharp little smack. “I never
received an answer to that letter. I wrote him two others. One I sent to
him at this office.” She glanced about the large pleasant room. “The
other I sent by Jonas to his campus residence. He was away at the time,
but his secretary, a young man, promised to give it to him as soon as he
returned.
“When I had been ignored by him a third time, I closed my heart against
Hamilton College, forever, as I thought. I could not conceive of how a
man like Doctor Burns could be in sympathy with Carden’s cheap villainy.
Still, I had given him an opportunity to clear himself and he had made
no sign. He was therefore not the one to write Uncle Brooke’s biography,
and I knew no one else whom I considered qualified to do so. It was not
until years afterward, quite by accident, that I learned that Alec
Carden’s nephew was Doctor Burns’ secretary at that time. Then it was
too late. The years had passed, and Doctor Burns with them. I believe
now that he never received the letters I wrote him.”
“I am sure he did not,” Doctor Matthews said quickly. “I am convinced
that he had no knowledge of such a calumnious pamphlet as Mr. Carden
threatened to have published. He attributed your failure to bring
forward the data for the biography as the result of your having had an
altercation with the Board. He was not in sympathy with the Board. You
had asked him to write the biography of your great uncle. He preferred
to await your pleasure.”
“He died not more than a year before Alec Carden.” Miss Susanna’s
usually crisp tones were tinged with melancholy. “And he never knew!”
Marjorie had sat listening to the last of the Hamilton’s story, a
lovely, absorbed figure. Her vivid imagination had visualized Miss
Susanna as she had probably been in girlhood. Across her brain flashed
the dramatic scenes which had occurred between Miss Susanna and the
hated Alec Carden. Here was a real story infinitely more fascinating
than one which was the product of imagination.
“I think I never knew of a more deplorable misunderstanding.” There was
poignant regret in Doctor Matthews’ assertion. “We have, however one
thing for which to give thanks. No calumnious word was ever published
against the memory of Brooke Hamilton. Yet, if you had found the
opportunity to talk with Doctor Burns, he would have advised you to go
boldly ahead with the biography. I would say the same today in a similar
situation.”
“Ah, that is precisely the point for which I blame myself!” the old lady
cried out regretfully. “I should never have given up until I had seen
the doctor. I have read Uncle Brooke’s letters and journals, over and
over. They are the essence of truth. No slanderous reports could live
beside them. I know that now. But I was young then, and alone in a great
empty castle. I was more or less bewildered by the responsibility which
had become mine. I despised Alec Carden, and I was full to the brim of
Hamilton pride. I had never talked with Uncle Brooke about the
biography. It was an issue that came to the fore after his passing. When
I had been rebuffed, as I thought, three times, I retreated into my
shell and stayed there.”
“But you are out of it, forever, and ever!” Marjorie exclaimed, her
brown eyes beaming luminous warmth on the wistful old face of the
mistress of the Arms. “You’ve been out of it a good many times in the
past two years, too. All the years you were tucked away in it you were
true to the trust Mr. Brooke Hamilton placed in you. You felt that you
hated his college, but you guarded its welfare just as faithfully as
though you had loved it. You are the most amazing person in the whole
world, Miss Susanna. You’re the real guardian of Hamilton.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------