Clara Kingscott, when Mrs Hartshorne sent her away from The Poplars in
that ignominious manner, telling her she did not require her services
any further, was more than half inclined not to prosecute her design
against Markworth in revealing her share in inducing Susan to go away
with him, out of pure spite against the old dowager.
"I'll make the old cat pay for it," she said to herself. "If I don't
prove anything against Markworth she'll have to pay him all that money,
and she shall too!"
But after some deliberation in the matter Miss Kingscott saw that she
would, according to the proverb, "be biting off her nose to spite her
face," and surrendering her long cherished revenge from a mere passing
pique. It would never do; she thought she had been cold and calculating
enough to achieve her purpose, and here she was going off at a tangent
and sacrificing all she looked and hoped for these many years but for a
petty loss of temper. No, she might be sent away from The Poplars, but
she would still achieve that grand purpose of her life, and no regret at
benefitting the harsh old woman she called her mistress should prevent
her from ruining Markworth. That she had sworn, and would stick to.
She took some temporary satisfaction out of the old dowager by abusing
her to her heart's content to her face, so astonishing that worthy lady,
who had not had a person exchange retorts with her for years, that Miss
Kingscott made her exit with flying colours just shortly before Tom
started off for Abyssinia.
No one was very much grieved at her departure, except the old doctor,
who said it was "A dooced shame sending away a poor girl like that,
marm!" to the mistress of The Poplars, who told him in reply to mind his
own business, and not to "be dancing to her house" any more, as he "had
nothing and nobody to dance there for now, thank goodness!"
The doctor had held his peace, and went his way a wiser if a sadder man,
saying unto himself, "Bless my soul! It's an infernal shame, and she's
a dooced fine girl, and it's a great pity," after taking an affecting
adieu of his late love, whom he commanded to have no scruples about
writing to him in case she wanted any assistance. You see the old lady
was present all the while, and the doctor could not repeat his
declaration in her presence, however much he may have been tempted so to
do.
In this manner Clara Kingscott went away, shaking the Sussex dust from
her feet and came to London, The Poplars being left to its own solitude
after Tom's departure, with the old dowager twice as cross and rancorous
and grinding to her tenants as before. I believe she even missed the
governess after a time, for now the old doctor hardly ever came, and she
had no one to quarrel with; no one who would answer her back again that
is, for "Garge" took all she gave him, as did the old women servant, and
there is no fun in having the quarrelling all to oneself. It takes two
to make a fair quarrel, but the poor old dowager had no one now but
herself. She paid off, however, her deprivation on Mr Trump, writing
long letters every day to him about the progress of the suit, and making
the lawyer swear at old ladies in general and Mrs Hartshorne in
particular, and curse the inventors of pen, ink, and paper, and Sir
Rowland Hill for the penny post.
The governess, when she arrived in London, took some comfortable
apartments for herself; she could afford to wait awhile, for she had
plenty of money besides her salary, which latter she had rigorously
exacted from the dowager to the last penny, including a month's notice,
for which she gave a receipt in full, and she could afford to look about
and suit her own convenience as to her future plans.
By a strange coincidence, she, after hunting about for a day or two,
took lodgings in the very house where Markworth had formerly lived in
Bloomsbury, and had the very same landlady, Mrs Martin, as hostess.
That good lady being very fond of chat, like most landladies, and as
"the parlours," as Miss Kingscott became called from taking these rooms,
had no friends coming to see her, she would frequently drop in "of an
evenink" to pass the time of day: also, like most landladies, Mrs
Martin would recount all the deeds and doings of her former lodgers, in
which narrative she did not fail to mention Mr Markworth, "The best
gentleman as any lady ever had; so quiet and giving no trouble, and
always paying his rent that regular as you might depend upon it like the
Bank of England as ever was!"
It was not surprising under these circumstances, therefore, that Miss
Kingscott soon got a little further information about the gentleman
around whom she was busily weaving her coils, and learnt in a very short
time--just through passing curiosity, that's all, she was so much
interested in what that good Mrs Martin had to tell of her lodgers--all
about the habits of Markworth, and that "sister" of his he had brought
up from the country, and how he had removed all his things, and gone off
at last without a word of warning; although "I'll do him the justice to
say he behaved as a perfect gentleman, that he did, and paid a month's
rent in advance," said Mrs Martin, which capped what the governess had
got out of the old dowager, and placed the lodging-house keeper and
herself on a par.
"Markworth _versus_ Hartshorne" was rapidly coming on for trial, when
late one evening, just as he was thinking of shutting up his office, and
going home for the night--the clerks, but one, had all departed an hour
since--Mr Trump had a visitor.
"Ah, ha! Miss Kingscott, glad to see you," said the lawyer, rising from
his chair as she entered. He was by himself, Sequence and the "Co."
having retired for the evening, and he was then writing busily by the
aid of a couple of greasy candles, which flared, now to the right, now
to the left, from the draught through the half-open door. "Glad to see
you; can I do anything for you? it's rather late, but never too late for
business, you know!" And he rubbed his hands with a sort of
congratulatory and metallic rub.
"Yes," answered the governess, speaking deliberately, in her cold, calm
voice; "I wanted to speak to you, and that's the reason you see me here.
You know, I suppose, that I have left Mrs Hartshorne's employment?"
"Yes--sorry for it too--hasty business; but you must remember the old
lady is a leetel hasty sometimes, and I ought to know it as well as
anybody."
"You are right, sir; she is too hasty sometimes, and was a little too
much so for her own good very nearly: only that it serves my purpose to
help her, I would not now be here. That case is very nearly coming on,
is it not?"
"What, Markworth _versus_ Hartshorne? Yes; but I thought you were
subpoenaed on the other side?"
"So I am, but I can help your side a good deal!"
"Indeed, Miss Kingscott! I do not like as a rule to tamper with an
opponent's witness, but as they played so very sharply with us, I think
we may stretch a point in the present instance." And the lawyer again
rubbed his hands expectantly, waiting for what the governess had to say.
"Now, what I am going to tell you," continued Miss Kingscott, "I am
going to disclose in confidence, and I wish you to pledge me your word--
I know you to be a gentleman, and I believe you to be a man of honour--
that not a particle of the information I give you is to be mentioned by
you until the day the trial comes on, when, of course, you are welcome
to make what use you please of it!"
"That's very strange, Miss Kingscott, very strange. I don't know what I
might be binding myself to!"
"You will find nothing to reflect on you, sir," resumed the governess,
"I shall be the only one who will suffer; and the very fact of my
telling you what I will do will be a proof of its truthfulness and
veracity. You can, in the meantime, substantiate anything I say by your
own personal enquiry."
"It's very strange! very strange, indeed, madam! But I take your word
for it, and will pledge myself as you require, excepting always," he
added, with his legal acumen, "that it does not prejudice my future act
on in the matter."
"It certainly will not; I shall want you to act!" said Miss Kingscott;
and thereupon she told the astonished lawyer all about her complicity
with Markworth, the compact between them, and how it was carried out.
"Dear me, this is very strange!" said the lawyer, when she had
concluded. "You haven't got any document to show, have you, in proof of
what you say?"
"No; only my word."
"Quite so! Quite so! What am I thinking of? Why, the very fact of
your coming forward, and implicating yourself in the conspiracy will be
proof enough."
The lawyer did not look on Miss Kingscott with the same deference that
he had previously shown her. He eyed her somewhat askance, but he
presently resumed his cross-examination.
"And you gave him the date of Susan's coming of age, eh!"
"Yes; I got it out of the family Bible. It was the 27th of August, I
remember it well--just the day before they had the pic-nic--when he took
Susan off."
"Humph! The 27th of August," said Mr Trump, reflectively, as he looked
over a little document he had before him, at first carelessly, but in a
moment or two more eagerly. "The 27th of August, eh--that's strange!"
He continued to pore upon the mass of papers on his desk, and then he
suddenly seized a large, old-fashioned volume that also lay before him.
"The twenty-seventh, eh? Then, by George, Miss Kingscott, I'm a born
idiot! Hurrah!" he shouted, rising, and dashing the volume to the other
end of the room, as if he were taken suddenly mad, and quite alarming
the governess, who hastily got up, and cried out--
"Mr Trump! Mr Trump! what is the matter, sir?"
"Matter, eh? Matter enough. I'm a born fool! Why that rascal married
the girl before she came of age. She was not of age until the 29th of
August; and, by George, the mistake in the figure will spoil every
chance he had, and prevent the necessity of your services, or any trial
at all!"
"Gracious! Mr Trump, is that really so, and it is only found out now?"
"Fact, madam. I'm a born idiot! Why, the whole thing could have been
nipped in the bud at once; and none of us to have seen that thing which
was glaring in our faces all the time, and going to let the case come on
for trial! Dear! Dear! I'm a born idiot, madam, and so is Sequence,
and we'd better now shut up shop!"
"And that will end the case at once?"
"Certainly, at once; why, he's got no right to claim anything now, as he
will know very shortly, from the very wording of the will."
"I'm glad of it; but I should have liked mine to have been the hand to
work his ruin."
"Very sorry, I'm sure, for your sake, madam; but you see we don't want
your help now, although I should have been very glad to use it a minute
or two ago! I shall write to that vagabond at once. He gave me an
address at an hotel the other day, and he said he would stop there until
the trial came on, in case we wanted to compromise, which, I confess, I
once did. But now, hurrah! the rascal's done for without that. I shall
be happy to see you any other time, Miss Kingscott; but I shall have to
be very busy now, and if you will excuse me--yes--good evening, madam--
ah--" And the governess was bowed out.
Mr Trump, when he was by himself, gave vent to a long, congratulatory
chuckle; after which he called out to his clerk, Smiffens, in the outer
office, and told him all about it.
"By George, Smiffens! what fools we all have been to be sure. There was
that plain evidence of the girl's birth, and the date of the marriage
staring us in the face all the time, and not one of us perceived it! By
George! Smiffens, what a fool I am!"
"Certainly, sir," answered the old clerk, meekly, his hair standing bolt
upright as he spoke.
"Go to the devil, sir! What do you mean? Confound your impudence!"
"Certainly, sir," said Smiffens, in the same tone of voice as before;
and he went towards the door, slowly.
"Stop!" sang out Mr Trump, who had not paused a moment writing all the
time. "Here, copy these two letters, and deliver them before you go
home. One is for Mr Markworth fixing an appointment for to-morrow
morning, so be sure to tell the waiter or porter at the Tavistock, where
he is staying, to be certain and give it to him to-night. The other
letter is for Solomonson and Isaacs, which you can post."
The clerk did as he was bidden; and Mr Trump went off to his suburban
home very well satisfied with his day's work. No cause now or need for
any witnesses or evidence, or for the praiseworthy exertions of
Sergeants Thickhyde and Silvertong. The suit of "Markworth _versus_
Hartshorne" was quashed ere yet it had begun.
Volume 2, Chapter XIII.