Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
[Illustration: "Calamity seems to be her portion," said the man coolly.
_Jock's Inheritance]_ _[Frontispiece_]
_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
PUBLISHED BY WARD, LOCK & CO., LTD.
ADRIENNE
A GIRL AND HER WAYS
HER KINGDOM
MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS
A STRANGE COURTSHIP
UNDER A CLOUD
NOEL'S CHRISTMAS TREE
JOCK'S
INHERITANCE
BY
AMY LE FEUVRE
Author of "My Heart's in the Highlands,"
"A Girl and Her Ways," "Noel's Christmas Tree," etc.
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED
LONDON AND MELBOURNE
MADE IN ENGLAND
Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I A VENTURE
II THE OLD HOUSE
III WHAT A CUPBOARD CONTAINED
IV LILAC FARM
V A HARD BLOW
VI IN NEW QUARTERS
VII VENETIA DISAPPEARS
VIII DISASTER
IX JOCK'S CONFESSION
X ORRIS'S LETTER
XI IN RETREAT
XII NEW QUARTERS AGAIN
XIII JOCK'S ARRIVAL
XIV A VISIT TO VEDDON WEAL
XV WED
XVI JOCK'S INHERITANCE
JOCK'S INHERITANCE
CHAPTER I
A VENTURE
IT was four o'clock in the afternoon in the beginning of January. The
room was cosy and comfortable. Outside, there was a bitter north-east
wind; the grey dusk hid the opposite row of houses, but the noise of
the traffic in the next street was ceaseless, and the girl sitting
before the blazing fire, her hands clasped loosely round her knees,
was continually raising her head in a listening attitude. Then she
heard the electric bell of her flat ring, and she rose to her feet
expectantly.
The door opened, and a man was ushered in by a very trim maid.
The girl uttered an exclamation of dismay.
"'You,' Dugald!"
"Yes, it's myself," said the newcomer in brisk tones; "don't look so
'dour,' as we Scotch say."
The girl smiled. She was tall and slender, but she was not beautiful;
only a pair of merry brown eyes and a humorously twisted mouth redeemed
her from plainness, but she carried her inches with dignity, and she
had an attractive personality.
"Sit down. I'm expecting my sister-in-law and my small niece to stay
with me. It is all rather sudden. Here's her letter. What do you think
of it?" She took a letter off her mantelpiece and handed it to him.
"MY DEAR ORRIS,—
"Calamity has overtaken me. I told you I was going to marry Captain
Arteris. My wedding day was fixed for the tenth of next month, and we
were to have been married in Cannes. I must tell you, about four months
ago, he persuaded me to invest all my capital in an oil well of his; he
said it would give me twelve per cent. right away. The oil has failed,
and the company, which I rather gather is Frank himself, is insolvent.
He came to me perfectly abject, saying he couldn't afford to marry, and
is now on his way to try new fields of fortune in California. So that's
off. The shock of it was too much for me, and I have been very ill. How
are Pippa and I to live upon my small pension? I must come and talk
over things with you, and I'm writing this just before leaving by the
night express.
"Your affectionate sister,
"VENETIA."
"Calamity seems to be her portion," said the man coolly; "but I fail
to see why you should be brought into it again. You set her up in a
millinery venture, did you not?"
Orris nodded.
"She has neither the health nor capacity to earn," she said.
"Take my advice and don't offer her a home."
"I think," she remarked, "that you had better not stay. I hear a taxi,
and you and she never hit it off."
"Hang her!" muttered the man under his breath. But he got up from his
chair. "I came to suggest a dinner at the Carlton to-night. Marie is up
in town, and wants to see you."
"I'm sorry."
She waved a rather impatient hand to him, and he left the room with a
heavy frown.
"Venetia is a born parasite," he said to himself, "and Orris is a
perfect fool in her hands."
Then, in a moment or two, the door opened, and Orris's sister-in-law
appeared.
She shed her fur coat before she embraced. "Oh, what weather! And we've
had such a rough crossing! I'm perished with cold!"
"Where's the child?" demanded Orris.
"Downstairs, chattering her head off to Dugald, who tumbled into us.
Does he still live in your pockets, Orris?"
Orris flushed, then she laughed.
"You never will realize that our cousinship is a thing by itself. Ah,
here comes Pippa!"
Venetia had taken off her hat and was standing over the fire; she had
a pale golden bobbed head and a very short dress. She looked about
seventeen in the firelight. The child who danced into the room and up
to Orris was dark-eyed, with a mop of very curly fair hair. She had
small features and a beautiful skin.
"Aunt Ollie—Aunt Ollie!" she cried, throwing her arms round her aunt.
"Aren't you very glad to see me? I've grown yards, and mummy's shoes
almost fit me if I stuff paper into the toes! And I walked all round
the ship with the captain, and do you know I have a darling dove in a
cage? And Cousin Dugald was saying a wicked word when he met us on the
stairs, so I put my hand in his pocket quick like a thief, and picked
his cigarette-case; and then he and me had a scrimmage, but he says
there's a new bear at the Zoo wants to see me, and we think we'll go
to-morrow."
She paused for breath. Her mother turned her head.
"Go and fetch me my handbag, Pippa. I left it in the cab, and Anita has
got it."
The child instantly obeyed.
"You can put us up, Orris?"
"Of course. I have a big spare room."
"You're very comfortable in this flat. I suppose you realize that we're
penniless. Pippa and I have both been in the doctor's hands. He advised
a good healthy out-of-door life for us both. So ridiculous! But I
couldn't stay on in Cannes."
"Pippa looks thin and white."
"She's never still; she tires me to death. I never ought to have been a
mother. I haven't the health for it. Children are a never-ending care
and responsibility. You'll have to take her off my hands for a bit.
Have you still got your job at the club?"
"Yes, I'm still manageress."
"I should like a similar job if I could get it. You have a very good
time and a good salary."
"It's good enough for one," said Orris, laughing, and her laugh was
clear and ringing, "but it won't be very good for three. I'll do the
best I can for you, Vennie dear. We must talk over this idea of a
country life."
"Don't make me an item in it. But Pippa has a cough which ought to be
cured. If I had the money, I would send her down to a country farmhouse
with Anita, my maid. I suppose you can put her up too? I forgot to say
I was bringing her over with us. She's half Italian, half French, and
adores Pippa, and knows how to manage her."
"I think she can share my one maid's room," said Orris.
Pippa was back.
"I wiss I was a organ-man, mummy! There's one with a monkey in the
street. May I go and be friends with him?"
"No," said her mother sharply; "you may not. Oh, dear! How tired I am!
Orris, I'll go straight to bed. Anita will wait on me—I only want a cup
of tea."
Orris took her to her spare room without a word. She saw that she had
every comfort there, and then returned to her little niece, whom she
found in front of the fire with two dolls and a Teddy bear.
"It's my family, Aunt Ollie—Beauty and the Beast and their little baby.
I'm really fondest of the Beast; he's so soft and squeezy."
Then a fit of coughing stopped further talking. And as Orris watched
the child's flushed, strained face and beating heart, sudden anxiety
seized her.
"Pippa, my darling, you're nothing but a bag of bones with a little
skin over them!"
She took her on her lap as she spoke, and, exhausted by her coughing,
the child rested her head on her shoulder and sighed.
"Mummy hates fat people. There was a fat lady on the boat. She could
hardly walk. I can run faster than anybody can catch me."
Tea was being brought in. Orris was distressed at her niece's small
appetite. When it was over, she found her hands full helping the
travellers to unpack and settle them comfortably for the night. But
later on, she came back to the fireside and sat very still in her
chair, as she reviewed the situation.
"This will make a big change in my life," she said to herself. "I
cannot support Vennie in the luxury she demands, if we live on in
town. And the child will die here. For Jim's sake, I must look after
them. Well, it is good to have belongings; I was getting selfish and
self-centred—and a few days will do wonders, I expect. I must get a
doctor's opinion, and arrive at Vennie's mind. Light will come—it
always does."
As she sat there, she looked back to her girlhood's days. Her first
real trouble was when she was a happy careless schoolgirl of fifteen.
She was recalled from her boarding-school to her young mother's
death-bed. She had caught a severe chill which turned to pneumonia, and
after a few days' illness passed away, whispering in a breathless way
to her little daughter: "Take care of daddy."
Orris had had eight years of sheltered life with her father, who was
a dreamy scholar, and lived in a world of books and manuscripts. He
was twenty years older than her mother, and died leaving his daughter
almost penniless.
Her one brother was a Civil Servant in India. He came home on leave at
his father's death with his wife and child, and wanted Orris to go back
to India and make his house her home. This she refused to do. Venetia
and she had little in common. And she knew she would not be a welcome
visitor to her sister-in-law.
Through an old school friend she obtained a post as assistant
manageress of a woman's club in London, and proved so capable and
dependable that, on the retirement of her friend, she was elected the
manageress, and had been there ever since.
Trouble came again. Her brother was carried off suddenly by virulent
typhus, and his widow and child came home, where Orris did her best
to obtain some employment for her sister-in-law. But Venetia was
not a worker; she threw up everything after a few weeks' trial, and
eventually went out to the Riviera as travelling companion to a rich
young widow. She had drifted about on the Continent for two years. And
as Orris realized now that her small income had entirely disappeared,
it needed all her courage and buoyancy to face the future.
"I think," she murmured to herself, with a smile breaking over her
face, "that my role is to be one of the world's caretakers. Better that
than stagnating in a lonely pool! And if Venetia may prove a difficult
problem, Pippa will be my greatest joy."
And with this conclusion she went to bed. She had learnt already how to
grapple with difficulties and yet maintain a cheerful contented spirit.
A week later she walked into her flat with a radiant face.
It was nine o'clock in the evening. For a wonder Venetia was at home.
She was crouched over the fire reading a novel, and looked up at her
sister-in-law with discontented eyes.
"What a time you've been! I've had a rotten day. I'm getting fed-up
with this cold fog and rain."
"So sorry, dear! I was kept later than usual, for a Mrs. Calthrop
wanted to talk to me, and our talk was so engrossing that I did not
notice how the time was going. Such good news, Vennie! An open door, I
call it."
Orris slipped off her fur coat and drew an easy-chair up to the fire.
Venetia looked at her with a half-scornful curl of the lip.
"You're easily pleased," she said.
"Yes, I hope I am, but even you must acknowledge that this is what we
have been wanting. I had been telling one or two of the members that I
feared I would have to give up my post as I wanted to try for something
in the country, and Mrs. Calthrop had heard of it. I don't know if
you've heard me speak of her. She's a very energetic busy woman with an
only son—rather delicate. He has lately come into an old property quite
unexpectedly. He was secretary for some years to the owners of it. An
old man and his wife. Their name was Muir. The husband died about three
years ago, and the wife the end of last year. Young Calthrop had made
himself very useful to them both. And to everyone's astonishment, the
whole of the property has been left to him."
"Do come to the point," said Venetia languidly. "I'm not interested in
these people."
"Yes, but you must be, because of what follows. Mrs. Calthrop is
anxious for her son to sell the whole of the library in the old house.
It is a very valuable one, but is in a state of hopeless confusion. The
death duties and taxes have rather crippled them this year, and she
wants to go to Algiers with him and travel a bit. Neither of them are
book lovers, but she knows I am. She knew my father many years ago, and
briefly her proposition is this: that I should go down and catalogue
and put the library into perfect order before it is put into the market
for sale. She wants a good price for it, and will get it, I expect. I
can't understand her being willing—or her son either—to part with such
a possession. But there it is! She offers me board and house room, says
I can take friends or relations with me, and offers me three pounds
a week. I think it will be a year's task. She means to be abroad for
about that time with her son, and says she would like me to take up my
quarters there till they return."
"Does she boss the show? What is this son like? Not married, is he? I
should like to meet him."
Venetia's interest was awakened. She lit a cigarette, and lay back in
her chair, thinking hard.
"I think she is boss, if you ask me. I have only seen her son once, and
then he struck me as a good-looking effeminate creature. I believe one
of his lungs is affected. No, he is not married, I'm glad to think.
He's not your sort, Venetia."
"My sort," said Venetia, taking her cigarette out of her mouth, and
watching the spiral of smoke ascend from her lips, "is anyone with
decent manners, and a good balance at his bank."
"I don't fancy he has too big a balance at present, but I daresay later
on, he'll be all right. The house is charming, I believe, but rather in
the wilds. It is on the borders of Hampshire, on high ground, and is in
the pine district. Very healthy, she says. I was thinking what a chance
for Pippa!"
"And what about me?"
Orris looked at her sister-in-law with a good-humoured tolerance.
"You must come with us and make the best of it. The salary, of course,
isn't much, but we can make it do, with board and lodging thrown in. In
two years' time Pippa will, we'll hope, be strong and robust. I believe
there are three or four good old servants left with the house, so we
shall be comfortable."
"I conclude you have accepted the post?"
"Not until I have talked it over with you. But we should be fools to
throw such a chance away. I am to let Mrs. Calthrop have my decision
to-morrow morning."
There was silence. Orris knew her sister-in-law well enough not to urge
her consent.
And at last, Venetia spoke.
"We can but try it. It will be good for the child. I think that I'll
let you take her down and settle in first. I've promised to pay the
Lucas-Seymours a visit the beginning of next month."
"All right. I rather think I can get Mary Watson to come back to the
club for a bit. She resigned, you know, because her brother lost his
wife, and wanted her to look after his children, but the eldest is home
from school now, and she's not wanted in the same way. There will be a
lot to see to, but I shall try to sub-let this flat. I don't want to
store my bits of furniture."
A busy time for Orris followed. Once having made a decision, she never
looked back. Her friends and a few relations objected to her leaving
town. Her cousin, Dugald McTavert, was one of these.
"It's the height of folly turning yourself into a book grubber for such
a paltry screw, and burying yourself in a mouldy rat-eaten ruin for the
sake of a child who could be boarded out quite cheaply in any lodgings
or farm."
"Well, now," said Orris, facing him gravely, "I always tell you that I
am led into pleasant pastures. I'm longing myself, after three years of
London turmoil, to breathe pure country air and live a quiet life. It
has come to me so easily and quickly that I simply look up, and give
thanks for it."
"As you gave thanks for your job in town," said Dugald.
"Yes, I did; and I've enjoyed all of it. I love my fellow-creatures,
and I've had some experience in dealing with them. And I won't say
that my brain hasn't benefited by my town life, and all the lectures
and music that I have enjoyed. But there's another side of me that I
have not cultivated. I've never had time to think—I won't use that
old-fashioned word, meditate—but I shall have time to browse amongst my
books, and have Nature around me."
"Deadly dull, you'll become!"
"Not I, with a child like Pippa to keep me young. She's alive to her
finger tips, and she's worth keeping in this world, Dugald. To let her
pine and die for lack of the right atmosphere would be pure murder!"
"And Madame la Mère?"
"Well, we must wait and see. She's willing to make the experiment, and
she will put in some visits when she's bored."
"I'm a relation, so I'll look you up one weekend," Dugald announced.
"My mouldy ruin won't interest you. I wish you could see the photo of
the house which Mrs. Calthrop showed me. It isn't anything near a ruin.
And the garden is a dream. But, of course, you can come and see us, if
you can tear yourself away from town."
"You'll hail my advent with joy. You aren't made to live alone,
Orris, as you'll find to your cost. Your life has been pretty full of
acquaintances and friends these last few years, and it will be a big
drop down to one small child and a few country yokels! As for Madam
Parasite, she'll flee back to town after two days of it. Why, Calthrop
himself won't live there!"
"It's his health," Orris said; "he was there for some years as
secretary."
"Yes, he was preparing his habitation. Do you know that there's a
nephew of the old Muirs somewhere? Rather hard lines on him! A rolling
stone, I believe, couldn't stay at home, and they took offence, and
cut him out of the will. But people say Mrs. Calthrop is a powerful
personality; she was a cousin of the Muirs, was she not? She stayed a
good bit with them. The rotten part of it all is that the old people
left her son the property as he appreciated their library so. That is
mentioned in their will, and the first thing he does is to sell the
blooming concern!"
"It isn't sold yet. How did you hear all this gossip?"
"I looked up the will at Somerset House, and I've known Calthrop. He
belongs to my club. He's a nincompoop, and entirely under his mother's
thumb."
"Well, they've been very good in giving me the job, and I'm not hearing
anything against them."
"You and Pippa in a lone empty country house—ghosts perhaps! My dear
girl, you're taking a false step. Back out of it!"
But Orris laughed at him and pursued her own way. And at last, her
affairs were settled, and one grey day towards the end of March, she
and Pippa and the Italian maid started from Waterloo for their new home.