PROPERTY
It may be imagined that the high favour in which Virginia was now held
was extremely gratifying to Dick. "I knew you could do it if you
tried," he said, smiling down on her, his arm round her shoulder, "and,
by Jove, you've done it to some tune. He wouldn't have any one else
now for a daughter-in-law, if I were to offer him his pick of the royal
princesses of Europe."
"He's an old dear," said Virginia. "You didn't give me in the least a
true picture of his character."
Dick laughed. He could afford to let this feminine charge go by. "He
wants me to talk business with him this evening, after dinner," he
said. "But he wants to talk to you again first, in spite of the fact,
that he's been talking to you nearly all day. Mind you keep calm, my
girl. We're not going to throw up our job yet awhile. If he wants us
here he'll have to wait for us."
Virginia went up with Mrs. Clinton to the big room, in the big bed of
which the Squire was sitting propped up with pillows, in a camel's-hair
dressing-gown, the seams of which had been slit up and tied again over
his bound-down arm.
"Ah, here you are," he said in his usual hearty tone. "Nina, I want a
word or two with Virginia. She'll call you when she goes."
Mrs. Clinton took her dismissal and Virginia her seat in a low chair by
the bed, facing him.
"Look here," he said; "no good beating about the bush any longer.
We're very good friends now, and I hope we shall remain so all our
lives. But there's no good disguising that we've been at
cross-purposes, and I want all that put right now. Let's look facts in
the face. It was more my fault than yours, I dare say, but there have
been faults on both sides, and we shan't gain anything by pretending
that we've all behaved as we ought to have done."
"You're quite right," said Virginia, smiling at him. "I'll listen to
anything you have to say, and you might begin by telling me where my
fault has been."
"Eh! what!" exclaimed the Squire. "Well, I suppose you won't deny that
you came down here to steal a march on me?"
"I wanted to know you," said Virginia sweetly. "I knew I should love
you if I did. And I was quite right. I do know you now, and I do love
you, better than any other man, except Dick."
The Squire thought this a very pretty speech, and, as it came from a
very pretty woman, its effect on him was beneficial. "Well, you have
taken a liking to me," he said, "and I have taken a liking to you. So
we're quits, and it's a pity both of us didn't do it before, for I tell
you frankly I have made certain promises which I shouldn't have made if
I had felt about you as I do now, and I don't quite see how I can get
out of them."
"You mean about money?" said Virginia. "Dear Mr. Clinton, please don't
worry any more about that. Dick and I have got over whatever
disappointment we may have felt about it--_I_ never felt any at all
except for his sake--long ago. He has been lucky in getting this job,
and we shall be as comfortable as possible."
"This job!" repeated the Squire, with much distaste of the word. "Dick
oughtn't to be wanting a job at all, and he won't be wanting one now.
He must give it up."
"I don't think he will do that at once," said Virginia. "He will
consider himself bound, for a time at least, to Mr. Spence. However,
that needn't worry you. We shall hope to be here a good deal, if you
want us, and later on we may be able to be here, or hereabouts,
altogether, if you still want us."
"Of course I want you," said the Squire. "I've wanted Dick all along,
in the place to which he belongs; I've never felt comfortable about
Humphrey taking his place, and as for my Lady Susan, I shall be very
pleased to welcome her as a daughter-in-law, but, if you want the
truth, my dear, you're worth six of her, and if _you_ can't live here,
well, I won't have _her_, and that's flat. I'll keep the place empty."
"Oh, but surely!" exclaimed Virginia. "You've promised, haven't you?
Humphrey told me it was arranged that he should live in the dower-house
when he was married."
"He did, did he? Seems to me Master Humphrey is counting his chickens
before they are hatched. No, I never promised. I never promised him
anything. At least, I believe I did promise him a certain allowance,
which is to be increased from another quarter. But beyond that nothing
was said definitely."
"No, but it was implied. Oh, Mr. Clinton, please don't make us the
cause of disappointment to others. We don't want it. We shall be very
well off as it is. We don't want any more, really we don't. Dick has
a fine position, handsomely paid, and I have money of my own too, you
know, and a good deal of it."
For the first time the Squire frowned. "I suppose you have," he said
shortly. "But to tell you the plain truth, I don't like the quarter it
comes from, and I very much doubt if Dick does either."
"I don't much, either," said Virginia, smiling to herself.
"I'm glad of that, at any rate. No, you're loyal enough to Dick.
You'll be able to forget the past; it hasn't soiled you. That's what I
was afraid of, and I see I was wrong. Still, this money--it's stuck in
my throat as much as anything."
"Well, then," said Virginia, "it need not stick in your throat any
longer. I know what you think as to where it came from. Dick thought
the same, and it stuck in his throat too, till I told him the truth.
Now I'll tell it to you. It's my own money, every cent of it, and it
came to me after--after my husband died. I have nothing that comes
from him. I wouldn't keep it if I had. I'm an heiress, Mr.
Clinton--not a very heavily gilded one, it's true, and the money my
uncle left me was made out of pork-packing, which is a dreadful thing
to talk about in this house. Still, you must forget that. Only the
capital sum comes from pork, and it's all invested in nice clean things
like railways."
The Squire stared at her during this recital as if fascinated. The
moment was almost too solemn for words. "Well, my dear," he said after
a short pause, "you lifted one weight from me yesterday, and now you've
lifted another, and a bigger one. Go away, and leave me to think about
it."
He thought about it for some time after she had left him, propped up on
his pillows, his mind growing ever lighter. In the midst of all his
perversities, his dislike of the thought of his son living, in part, on
money that had come from "that blackguard" had been an honourable and
unselfish feeling, and the removal of the fear swept away with it every
other trace of his long-nurtured objections to Virginia as a wife for
Dick. Now all he desired was that Dick should return to his honoured
place at Kencote, and all should be as it had been before, with only
the addition of Virginia's charming presence to complete the happiness
of the tie. He did not think at all about Humphrey, nor of the new
interests on which, a week or so before, he had been anxious to pin his
anticipations.
But Humphrey had to be thought of, all the same. Mrs. Clinton, coming
into his room, said that Humphrey would like to come and see him and
have a talk, and asked if he felt well enough to talk to him.
"Oh, well enough? Yes," he said. "Never felt better in my life. I've
a good mind to get up for dinner. Nina, Virginia has just told me
something that I wish I had known before. It has pleased me beyond
measure."
He imparted to her Virginia's disclosure, and she expressed herself
pleased too, wondering a little at the ways of men about money, that
potent disturber of lives.
"That removes every difficulty," he said. "And I'm very glad of it,
for Dick's sake. I don't know how much it is and I haven't asked her,
but she must be pretty well off. Dick won't need it, but it's always
useful."
"It will make it easier to do what you promised for Humphrey," said
Mrs. Clinton.
"For Humphrey?" he echoed. "Oh yes. Fifteen hundred a year is a
pretty big allowance for a younger son. He's a lucky fellow, Master
Humphrey. Did you say he wanted to see me? Well, send him up."
Humphrey came in, and stood by his father's bedside.
"Well, my boy!" said the Squire pleasantly.
"Picking up all right, I hope?" said Humphrey. "Might have been a
nasty business."
"Sit down," said the Squire. "I've just heard a thing that has pleased
me amazingly. Funny how one gets an idea into one's head when there's
no foundation for it!" Then he told Humphrey about Virginia's money.
Humphrey had not much to say in answer to the information, but sat
thinking.
"Well, now," said the Squire, with the air of one turning from thoughts
of pleasure to thoughts of business. "Of course, all this makes a
difference. Dick and I have had a row--you may put it like that if you
please--and we've made it up. He'll come back here, I hope, and settle
down, and things will be as they were before. I don't think you're cut
out for a country life altogether, and dare say you won't be sorry for
the change. So it will suit us all pretty well, taking one thing with
another, eh?"
Humphrey said nothing for a moment. Then he asked shortly, "Do you
mean that I'm not to have the dower-house, after all?"
"Have the dower-house?" repeated the Squire, as if that were the last
thing that had ever crossed his mind. "When did I ever say that you
were to have the dower-house? It isn't mine to give you. It goes with
the property--to Dick eventually; you know that perfectly well."
"Oh yes, I know that," said Humphrey, with some impatience. "I meant,
have it to live in. That's what was arranged, and I told Susan so, and
Lady Aldeburgh."
"Then I think you were in a bit of a hurry," said the Squire. "I told
you I should settle nothing till Dick's marriage."
Humphrey found it difficult to keep his temper. "If you'll excuse my
saying so," he said, with a slight tremor in his voice, "we've been
talking of nothing else for weeks past, and as to what part I was to
take in the management of the place. I'd every right to tell them that
at Thatchover."
"Well, perhaps you had," assented the Squire tolerantly. "And I don't
go so far as to say that you can't live there for a bit either. I want
Dick and Virginia to live there, and I tell you so plainly, and I shall
do all I can to persuade him to. But he may think he's bound to this
fellow, Spence, for six months or so, and if you get married in time,
and care to occupy the house for a bit and keep it warm for him, well,
you'll be very welcome. But, on the whole, I think you'd be wiser to
settle down where you're going to stay. With the very handsome
allowance I'm going to make you, and what old Aunt Laura has promised
to add to it, and whatever Susan brings you, though I dare say that
won't be much, you'll be exceptionally well off, and can live pretty
well where you like."
Humphrey choked down his anger. "What about Partisham?" he asked, but
it was an unwise question, for whatever definite arrangement the Squire
had had in his mind and allowed to be talked about, Partisham had not
come into it, although it was true that he had let it be seen what was
in his mind.
"Do you mean to say you want me to leave Partisham away from Dick, and
give it to you?" he asked.
"I want you to keep to your promises," replied Humphrey doggedly.
"You've been feeding me up for the last month with all sorts of
statements as to what you were going to do for me; then you suddenly
make it up with Dick, and want to kick me out altogether, and expect me
to take it all without a word, and consider myself lucky. I call it
grossly unfair. I haven't only myself to think of. You even want to
chuck the arrangement that you say I'd a perfect right, relying on what
you said, to tell Susan about."
"I think you're most infernally ungrateful," said the Squire angrily.
"Point me out another younger son in England who is given two thousand
a year to set up house on."
"That doesn't all come from you," said Humphrey, "and there are plenty
of younger sons whose fathers are as rich as you who would get that.
Besides, that isn't the point. If that's all you'd said you'd do for
me, I'd have said thank you and cut my coat according to my cloth. But
you know quite well it isn't all. The dower-house was a definite
understanding at any rate, and if you didn't mean that Partisham was to
come to me eventually, and Checquers come either to me or go to Walter,
then your words don't mean anything at all."
The accusation had too much truth in it even for the Squire to
contradict it altogether. "Partisham is likely to be one of the best
bits of the whole estate," he said. "In ten years' time half of it
will be building land, and even with these wicked taxes, it will be a
very valuable piece of property. It isn't likely, now Dick has come to
reason, that I'm going to leave it away from him, and you oughtn't to
expect it."
"Now Dick has come to reason!" repeated Humphrey bitterly. "Dick
stands exactly where he's always stood. It's you who've changed your
mind, and you expect me to fall in and take it smiling. I say again,
it's grossly unfair."
"That's not the way to talk to me," said the Squire hotly. "You're
forgetting yourself. If you're not precious careful you won't get the
money I'd put aside for you, let alone anything else."
Humphrey got up from his chair. "I'd better go," he said. "If your
word means nothing at all, I may as well break off my engagement. I
thought it was good enough to get married on," and he left the room.
The Squire lay and fumed. A pretty return he was getting for all he
had promised to do for Humphrey! Was ever such ingratitude? His mind
dwelt wholly on the very handsome provision that was to be made for his
immediate marriage, and he grew more and more indignant as he asked
himself, again and yet again, what younger son of a plain country
gentleman could possibly expect more. At last he rang his bell and
told his servant to ask Captain Clinton to come to him.
But before Dick arrived Mrs. Clinton came in again, and to her he
unburdened himself of some of his indignation at Humphrey's ingratitude.
She heard him without comment, and then said slowly, "I think Humphrey
and Susan ought to have the dower-house, Edward."
"What!" exclaimed the Squire. "Turn Dick out of the place that has
always been his, and put a younger son into it! You say I ought to do
that, Nina? What can you be thinking of?"
"_Has_ Dick's place always been his, Edward?" she asked, with her calm
eyes on his.
"What do you mean?" he snapped at her; and then went on quickly in his
loud, blustering tone, "Dick and I fell out, it's true, and if he had
married without my sanction I should have acted in a way I'm not going
to act now. I've come round--I don't deny I've come round--to be in
favour of his marriage, and I'm not going to make him suffer for the
misunderstanding."
At this point Dick came into the room, and the Squire said, "Well, I'll
talk to you later, Nina. I want to get things settled up with Dick
now."
But Dick looked at her kindly. "Mother may as well stay and take a
hand in the discussion," he said. "We owe it to her that we're all
friends again, and I think she's got a better head than any of us."
"Your mother was just saying," said the Squire, "that I ought to let
Humphrey and Susan have the dower-house. I'm not going to do anything
of the sort. There _was_ a sort of an understanding that they should
live there when I thought you and I weren't coming together again. I
had to make _some_ arrangements. But even if I didn't want you there,
I don't know that I should consent to it now. Humphrey has taken up a
most extraordinary attitude, and I'm very much annoyed with him. He's
going to be most handsomely treated, more handsomely than he could ever
have expected. Yet he's just been up here and flung out of the room in
a rage because I won't promise to leave him Partisham, if you please."
"Leave him what?" asked Dick.
"Partisham; and all the land that came in with it; and Checquers too.
No, I'm wrong; I'm instructed to leave that to Walter. I say it's a
scandalous position for a son to take up. I'm not an old man, and I
hope I've got a good many years to live yet, and I'm to have my sons
quarrelling already about what I'm to do with my property after I'm
dead."
"I suppose he saw his chance when I was out of favour," said Dick, "and
is wild because what he hoped for didn't come off. What did you
actually promise to do for him?"
"I promised to make him an allowance of fifteen hundred a year, and I'm
prepared to keep my word, of course."
"Well, that's pretty good to begin with."
"But, good gracious me, that isn't all of what he's going to have. Old
Aunt Laura is going to give him another five hundred, and she's
consulted me about leaving him the bulk of her money when she goes."
"Aunt Laura! Five hundred a year!" exclaimed Dick, in utter surprise.
"Can she do it?"
The Squire gave a short laugh. "I might have known that the old ladies
had saved a good deal," he said, "but I never thought much about it.
At any rate that's a definite offer from her--the allowance, I mean.
Whether I let her make a will almost entirely in his favour, is another
matter; and if he doesn't behave himself I shall do all I can to stop
it."
"He must have been pretty clever in getting round her," said Dick. "I
know he's been working hard at it. Rather a dirty trick, to my
mind--working on an old woman for her money. Still, different people
have different ideas. Did you promise him the dower-house?"
The Squire began humming and hahing, and Mrs. Clinton broke in. "It
was a very definite understanding," she said. "I must take Humphrey's
part there. It was understood that he should give up the Foreign
Office as soon as possible, and settle down here to help look after the
property."
"_If_ things had been as we then feared they would be," said the
Squire. "That was always understood."
Mrs. Clinton was silent, and Dick said, rather unwillingly, "You'd
better let him have the dower-house--say for two years. I can't throw
Spence over now, and I can't do my best for him under that."
The Squire expostulated loudly. He wanted Dick and Virginia near him.
He was getting on in years. He might be in his grave in two years'
time. But Dick remained firm. "I don't want to rake up old scores,"
he said. "But you mustn't forget that until a week or so ago you were
going to cut me off with a shilling. I had to find a job, and I was
precious lucky to get this one. I owe something to the fellow who gave
it to me."
"I think you do," Mrs. Clinton said before the Squire could speak;
"and, Edward, I think you must remember, in justice to Humphrey, that
what applies to Dick applies to him too. You took a certain course,
very strongly, and both Dick and Humphrey acted on it."
"I don't want to hear any more about Humphrey," said the Squire. "I
don't want him in the dower-house, nor Susan either."
"Well, you must settle that with him," said Dick. "I dare say he'll be
quite ready to make a bargain with you. He seems rather good at it.
He hasn't concerned himself much with my side of the question, and I'm
not going to stick up for his, especially as he comes off so well,
anyhow."
That was practically the end of the discussion, and the Squire was left
lamenting the frowardness of human nature.