A FINISHED CHAPTER
CAPTAIN FORTESCUE was up early the following morning, and set off in
good time for the morning train.
On his way to Keswick, he passed Louis Verner in Borrowdale, and
stopped the carriage to speak to him. Louis told him that he had tried
to get through the valley the day before, but had found the road quite
impassable. He said he was on his way to Fernbank to take Mrs. Douglas
the "Standard."
The journey was a cold one, and the Captain was not sorry to reach
Sheffield. He had wired the time of his arrival to Elkington, and he
found a bright fire in the library, and drawing his chair near it, he
opened the pile of letters which had arrived during his absence from
home.
Most of these were bills of his father's, but he came to one in a
lady's handwriting and with a coronet on the envelope. He opened it,
and found that it was a very kind note from Lady Earlswood, telling
him that she had seen in the "Times" the notice of his father's death,
and that she wished to express her deep sympathy with him in his
bereavement. She also wished to invite him to come to Grantley Castle
on his way back to Aldershot. The house-party had broken up, but Evelyn
was still at home, and they would all be delighted to see him for as
long as it was possible for him to stay.
He sat down after dinner to write an answer to this letter, in which he
thanked Lady Earlswood for her kindness, but at the same time politely
declined her invitation.
He had finished this letter, and was putting it in the envelope which
he had addressed, when he suddenly changed his mind, tore up what he
had written, and wrote another letter. He would go to see them, and
would explain his altered position; it would be better so, and if they
chose to drop his acquaintance after they knew all, they could do so.
Berington, he thought, would always remain his friend, at least he
hoped so; but he was not so sure what Lady Earlswood's view of the
subject might be. She was a thorough woman of the world, and might not
care to have him at her house when she knew how greatly his prospects
had altered.
In a week's time, Kenneth had wound up his father's affairs, as far
as it was possible for him to do so, had dismissed the servants and
taken an affectionate farewell of the old butler, and had started on
his journey to Grantley Castle. As he stepped that afternoon into
the brougham waiting for him at the station, he felt as if he were
beginning to read the very last page of the first volume of his life.
A five miles' drive took him to the entrance to the Castle, which stood
on the side of a hill several hundred feet above sea-level. He drove
in at the great gates, which were opened by the lodge-keeper as the
carriage was heard approaching. The drive was made through a beautiful
avenue of beech trees, and led steeply uphill. The house stood on a
plateau, from which was a glorious view of the valley below and the
wooded hills beyond. The door was opened by a footman, and Kenneth
entered a magnificent marble hall, filled with palms and other hothouse
plants, tastefully grouped round the lovely statuary, which was of pure
white marble like the portico in which it stood. A flight of marble
steps led him to another door, where he was met by the butler and,
conducted to the library.
Lady Earlswood welcomed him kindly, and Lady Violet, who was pouring
out tea at a small table in the window, told him how delighted Evelyn
was that he could come to see them. He had been obliged to make a
distant call that afternoon, but would be home in a short time. Then
the conversation turned on the Riviera and the happy month they had
spent together there the year before, and Lady Violet went for her
photo album, that she might show him the prints of the negatives which
he had helped her to take. Captain Berington came in before they had
looked through them all, and they talked together of the many places
which the photos recalled, the different pleasant excursions during
which they had been taken, and the various amusing incidents which had
occurred whilst they were there. Kenneth himself appeared in several of
them, and as he looked at these, he wished that he could feel once more
the gay light-heartedness which he had then enjoyed.
Then it was time to dress for dinner, and he went to his room feeling
as if he were in a dream, or rather, as if this were reality, and the
past three weeks had been a distressing dream from which he had awaked.
He went down to the drawing-room, and found Lady Violet there before
him. She looked very lovely in her pale-blue evening dress, and the
magnificent diamond necklace which had been her mother's present to her
when she came of age.
"I'm awfully glad you were able to come," she said in a low voice.
"Thank you, Lady Violet; I am glad too; I wanted to say good-bye to you
all."
"Why good-bye?"
"May I tell you in the morning some time, if you and Lady Earlswood
could spare me half an hour? I had rather not talk about it to-night,
if you don't mind. I think I should like to tell you just before I go."
"But you're not going to-morrow; you must stay longer than that."
"Impossible, Lady Violet! My leave has been extended more than once,
and I'm due in Aldershot to-morrow."
"Oh, what a pity! I thought—"
But what Lady Violet thought, she never told him, for at that moment
her brother and sister came into the room together, and Lady Earlswood
soon followed. And then dinner was announced.
The dinner-table was covered with the rarest hothouse flowers and
ferns, amongst which were burning numbers of tiny electric lamps, the
brightness of which was reflected in the shining silver and glass. As
Kenneth Fortescue sat talking to Captain Berington after the ladies
had gone into the drawing-room, he could not help wondering whether he
would ever again sit down at such a table.
The evening passed pleasantly and all too quickly. Lady Earlswood had
the happy gift of making all who came to her house feel at home and
thoroughly at their ease, and she expressed great sorrow when Captain
Fortescue announced that he must be back in Aldershot the following day.
She looked somewhat surprised when he asked her if he might speak to
her on a personal matter before he started, and she glanced at Lady
Violet, as if she wondered if the interview he had asked for had
anything to do with her. If so, she was inclined to listen favourably
to what he had to say, for Captain Fortescue was apparently the richest
man of her acquaintance, and certainly the most aristocratic in
appearance. He had no title, which was, of course, a serious drawback,
and she would have to make full inquiry about his family and prospects
before giving her consent. But if Violet was fond of him, and if all
turned out satisfactory, now that he had inherited his father's money,
an offer from him would, at any rate, have her serious consideration.
Thus Lady Earlswood looked forward with anything but dissatisfaction to
the appointment that she had made with Kenneth Fortescue, to come to
her morning-room after breakfast the following day.
"You would like to see me alone," she whispered, as they rose from the
breakfast-table and were leaving the room.
"No, Lady Earlswood; if you do not mind, I should like all of you to
hear what I have to say."
Lady Earlswood was surprised. Surely his private communication could
not be what she had expected. However, she at once fell in with his
suggestion, and soon the family party was gathered together in her
pretty boudoir.
Then he told them all; he laid before them the story of his life; he
spoke tenderly of his old father, dwelling on his self-denying love in
bringing him up, and educating him regardless of expense, and in such
a way as to make him (he was ashamed to own it now) even feel out of
place in his own home, and out of touch with his own father. He said
that he had often wished to tell them of this, but a feeling of loyalty
to his father had held him back from doing so.
Then he went on to the cause of his father's death; he told them of
the telegram, and of the terrible news it contained; and then he spoke
of the consequence of that news to himself; he said that he was on the
point of throwing up his commission, inasmuch as he could not possibly
live upon his captain's pay; that he must now turn his attention to
something which would be sufficient to provide for him in a quiet and
simple way, and which might also enable him, by means of the greatest
economy, to repay an obligation incurred by his father some years ago,
and for which, as his son, he felt morally responsible.
They did not interrupt him as he was telling this story, but listened
attentively. Lady Violet, with heightened colour, turned a little away
from him as he was speaking, and as soon as he had finished, she rose
and left the room.
[Illustration: THEN HE TOLD THEM ALL; HE LAID BEFORE THEM
THE STORY OF HIS LIFE.]
Lady Earlswood thanked him for speaking as frankly as he had done.
Of course it was the only right thing to do, for, in their position
of life, there were obligations which they owed to society, and her
husband, the late Earl, being dead, these obligations of course
devolved upon herself. She was very sorry that circumstances, over
which of course he had no control, had occurred to terminate what had
been a very pleasant acquaintanceship. She wished it could have been
otherwise, but she felt sure he would see with her that she had no
choice in the matter. At the same time she could only repeat that she
was exceedingly sorry, and that she wished very much that it could have
been otherwise.
It was just what Captain Fortescue had expected her to say, and he
was therefore neither surprised nor disappointed. But he felt, with
somewhat of a pang of regret, that he had come to the last paragraph of
that last page of Volume I of his life, as he rose to take leave of her
and Lady Maude.
Captain Berington, who had not spoken once during the interview, now
told him that he was coming with him to the station, and would join him
in a few minutes. As Kenneth passed through the inner hall on his way
to the door where the carriage was waiting for him, Lady Violet was
just crossing it. She was still very flushed, and he thought that she
had been crying. He went up to her to say good-bye.
"I think you might have told us all this before," she said.
"I have only known it three weeks myself, Lady Violet."
"Oh! About the money—yes. But about your father—you knew that. You see,
it has put us in a very unpleasant position."
"I think I explained to you why I did not tell you before; it was for
my poor old father's sake."
"It makes it awfully hard for us."
"It shall not be harder than I can help, Lady Violet; you need not be
afraid that I shall presume upon our former acquaintance. I know my
altered position, and I shall never forget it, I hope. Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Captain Fortescue."
She did not even shake hands with him as she said it, but ran swiftly
upstairs, and Kenneth passed on through the marble hall to the carriage
waiting at the door.
Captain Berington was most friendly during the drive, but did not
allude to the conversation that had taken place in his mother's
boudoir, until he was standing at the carriage door just before the
train started. Then he grasped Kenneth's hand, and said—
"You and I can still be friends, Fortescue; of course the mater has to
be particular for the girls' sake, and my brother, the Earl (you've
never met him, I think), is more particular still; he's obliged to be,
I suppose. But I'm only a younger son, so can do as I like. Good-bye."
The train moved off before Kenneth could answer, and as it left the
station behind, he felt that, in spite of Captain Berington's friendly
words, he had read the very last line of the last page of Volume I of
his life-story, and had come to Finis.
But as the Captain journeyed on to Aldershot, and recalled Lady
Violet's words, "It makes it awfully hard for us," he could not help
contrasting them with other words, spoken by another voice, only ten
days before, "Please don't think about us; it is quite hard enough for
you."
And, as he thought of the difference between the two remarks, he
mourned less than he would otherwise have done over the Finis which he
had read at the bottom of that last page.