ANOTHER CHAPTER CLOSED
SEVERAL months had gone by since that Christmas night on which Lord
Derwentwater had acknowledged his son and heir, and Kenneth was now
sitting once more in the little back parlour of Mrs. Hall's house, 156,
Lime Street, Birmingham.
Those months had been most eventful ones, and he could hardly believe
that the time he had been away had not been longer. Now, he had come
to Birmingham to pack up his belongings, and to finally close his
connection with the insurance company. He had been unable to leave
Eagleton Castle before; his father had been loth to spare him even for
a day. All the love which had been denied him for twenty-five years
seemed to have accumulated, and was poured out upon him during the
short time which they spent together. The Earl could hardly bear to
lose sight of him even for an hour, and Kenneth devoted himself to his
father, and was an unspeakable comfort and help to him in countless
different ways.
Kenneth had the joy of knowing that the Earl was clinging with
childlike faith to the Saviour of sinners, and that he was resting
all his hopes on the finished work of Christ. He had passed away from
earth, holding Kenneth's hand, only three weeks ago, and his very last
words had been those which had first brought him comfort and peace:
"'Faithful and just to forgive us our sins.'"
But Kenneth's first fortnight in the home of his ancestors had been
an exceedingly stormy one. Lord Kenmore, on receipt of a letter from
the Earl informing him of the existence of his son, had appeared on
the scenes extremely indignant, and determined to vigorously contest
Kenneth's claim. All his life he had believed himself to be the heir
to the Derwentwater title and estates. His elder brother was married,
certainly, but he had no family, and he therefore saw no prospect
whatever of anything occurring to militate against his succession. He
had told Lady Earlswood what his prospects were, and, on the strength
of them, she had given her consent to her daughter's engagement. The
estate which he had inherited through his mother was comparatively a
small one, the rent-roll was a mere bagatelle, when compared with that
of Eagleton.
And now, just when Lady Violet was recovering from her accident,
when the date of their wedding was once more fixed, when all their
arrangements were made, and when everything seemed going well, this
letter from the Earl had arrived, informing him that a son of his,
ignored and disowned for twenty-five years, had turned up, had been
received and welcomed, and was now to inherit his title and estates.
The story appeared to Lord Kenmore to be simply incredible; he could
not bring himself to believe that it was founded on fact; he would
not, even for a moment, accept such a ridiculous statement, even
though he had it in the Earl's own handwriting. His brother's repeated
heart attacks, which rendered his life so uncertain, had made him,
not unnaturally, calculate upon a speedy succession to the glories of
Eagleton Castle. Was it likely then that he would meekly submit to
being disinherited, or would allow without a hard struggle that those
glories would never be his own?
Thus Lord Kenmore drove up to the Castle in a towering passion, marched
past the footman and butler, walked imperiously upstairs, and demanded
an interview with the Earl immediately.
When the doctors told him that this was impossible until the next day,
as the Earl was extremely weak that evening and must be kept perfectly
quiet, he was more angry still; and when he discovered, from the
servants, that the impostor, as he called him, was at that very time
sitting in the Earl's bedroom, to which he was admitted at all hours of
the day and night, his indignation knew no bounds. He utterly declined
to take the slightest notice of Kenneth or even to see him. He ordered
dinner to be served in his own room, as he did not choose to sit down
with the man who had supplanted him, and he went to bed that night
determined to fight to the last for what he chose to call his lawful
rights.
But the following day, Lord Kenmore was admitted to the Earl's
presence, and going into the room he found the family lawyer sitting
by the bedside. On a table before him lay the indisputable proofs of
the marriage and of the child's birth, and bit by bit the lawyer, who
was the spokesman on the occasion, showed Lord Kenmore that, if he
attempted to establish his claim in a court of law, he would simply
incur great and needless expense, for he would be perfectly certain to
lose his case.
"I'm sorry, very sorry, Kenmore, that you have been kept in ignorance
of this so long," said the Earl, "and I feel very much for you in your
disappointment; but I must do justice to my own son."
Thus the interview ended, and Lord Kenmore, still only half convinced,
ordered the carriage, and drove away from the Castle, without having
even met the nephew who had taken his place.
He wrote many angry letters after his return home, but after taking
further legal advice, he was at last compelled to own, sorely against
his will, that nothing could be done to reverse the ill-luck which had
fallen upon him.
There was great consternation at Grantley Castle when the news
arrived there. Lady Earlswood felt that Lady Violet's prospects were
now far below her expectations. Had she known that Lord Kenmore was
a comparatively poor man, she would never have consented to the
engagement. However, now it was too late to draw back, and she must
hope to find a better settlement for her younger daughter. Perhaps this
son of Lord Derwentwater might be eligible; he was a young man, and she
gathered from Kenmore's letter that he was unmarried. She had no idea
who he was. Lord Kenmore told her that he had been born in Africa, and
that he thought he had turned up from some place abroad. Never for a
moment did either she or her daughters connect him with the son of the
rich miner whom they had discarded two years ago, and whom they now
supposed to be earning his living somehow or other in a very humble
manner. Captain Berington had not mentioned his meeting with Kenneth,
and they had heard nothing of him since the day that he left Grantley
Castle.
When, some time after, the news of the death of Earl Derwentwater
reached her, Lady Earlswood at once determined to cultivate the new
Earl's acquaintance. He must most certainly be invited to the wedding.
He was Kenmore's nearest relative, and, although she knew that her
future son-in-law was angry with him at present, he must be made to see
the importance of a reconciliation with his brother before the grand
event took place. Lady Maude was still an unappropriated blessing, and
who could tell whether she might not have a chance of gaining the title
which her sister had unfortunately lost?
During the latter part of the Earl's life, he and his son had been left
in peaceful enjoyment of each other's society. He recovered from his
severe illness to a great extent, and was able to be moved daily on to
a couch in his own room; but on the fourteenth of March another heart
attack had occurred, more violent than any of those which had preceded
it, and in the space of a few hours he had passed away.
Lord Kenmore would not even come to his brother's funeral, and uncle
and nephew had therefore never met.
Now Kenneth had at last been able to leave the Castle, and had come to
Birmingham to wind up his affairs there, and was therefore sitting to
write his letters in his old place in Mrs. Hall's dismal little room.
She was very sorry to lose her lodger, and told him that she would
never have another like him. He had paid her in full for all the time
he had been away, and had delighted her heart by the present of a new
carpet and some pretty furniture to adorn her little room.
"Well, now, to be sure, if ever there was a gentleman, he's one!" she
would say to her friends.
Kenneth, as he sat at the table in the window, was writing a letter to
Mrs. Douglas. If we had looked over his shoulder, we should have seen
that it ran thus:
"156, Lime Street, Birmingham,
"April 3.
"DEAR MRS. DOUGLAS,
"I am hoping to have the pleasure of calling upon you some time next
week. I was so charmed with the peep I had of Borrowdale two years ago,
that I am planning a little holiday in your beautiful neighbourhood,
and I think of making the comfortable inn at Rosthwaite my headquarters
during the time I am in Cumberland.
"I am glad to be able to tell you that I am receiving more money this
year, and therefore hope that my next remittance will be a somewhat
larger one.
"With kind regards,
"Yours sincerely,
"KENNETH FORTESCUE."
He read this letter through several times after he had written it. He
had purposely addressed it from his old lodging in Birmingham. He had
carefully concealed his present position. Had she not said, "I rather
hope you are not a lord; you would seem so much less our friend."
Why, then, should he tell her? He would go unattended, as the poor man
he had been when she saw him last; then she would feel that no wide
social gulf had come between them. He had no fear of her discovering
otherwise who he was; even Kenmore would never connect him with the
Captain Fortescue of whom he might possibly have heard at Grantley
Castle. In the Earl's statement, his foster-father had been called
by his proper name, Tomkins; the name Fortescue had not even been
mentioned. So that Kenneth felt sure that his secret was safe, and he
hoped that therefore he would not seem "so much less their friend."
He had to spend two days in Birmingham winding up his accounts, and at
the end of them, he received Mrs. Douglas's answer. She told him that
she was glad to get his letter, and that they would all be very pleased
to see him again in Borrowdale.
Kenneth hoped from this letter that he might find them all at home.
He had had a letter from Captain Berington at Christmas, in which he
told him that Violet was quite well again, and that he was sorry to say
that Miss Douglas was leaving. He wondered whether Marjorie had by this
time undertaken any other work. He could not help hoping that she was
included in the all in her mother's letter.
When at last his packing was finished, Mrs. Hall took an affectionate
farewell of her lodger. He told her that he would like to hear now
and again how she got on, and he would therefore give her his future
address. He handed her his card, and when she had glanced at it she
turned quite pale.
"Who's this, sir?" she said. "This isn't your name!"
"It is, Mrs. Hall—my very own."
"But you're not an earl, surely!"
"Yes, I am, Mrs. Hall."
"Deary me! And I've waited on you and scolded you when you wouldn't get
better dinners. I'm fair scared, sir!"
Kenneth laughed at her dismay.
"Never mind, Mrs. Hall," he said, shaking hands with her at parting.
"You've been a good friend to me, and I shall never forget your
kindness."
"To think of that!" Mrs. Hall would say to her friends. "I've waited on
a real live earl! I'm not half proud!"