When Sir Hildebrand recovered, which he did quickly, he went about like
a man in a daze, stupified by his wife's hideous accusation and
monstrous ingratitude. It was inconceivable that the submissive angel
with whom he had lived and the secret writer of those appalling words
should be one and the same person. Surely, insanity. That invalidated
the will. But Haversham pointed out that insanity would have to be
proved, which was impossible. The will contained no legal flaw. Lady
Oates's dispositions would have to be carried out.
"It leaves me practically a pauper," said Sir Hildebrand, whereat the
other, imperceptibly, shrugged his shoulders.
He realised, in cold terror, that the house wherein he dwelt was his no
longer. Even the chairs and tables belonged to his son, Godfrey. His
own personal belongings could be carried away in a couple of handcarts.
Instead of thousands his income had suddenly dwindled to a salvage of a
few hundreds a year. From his position in the county he had tumbled
with the suddenness and irreparability of Humpty-Dumpty! All the
vanities of his life sprang on him and choked him. He was a person of
no importance whatever. He gasped. Had mere outside misfortune beset
him, he doubtless would have faced his downfall with the courage of a
gentleman of the old school. His soul would have been untouched. But
now it was stabbed, and with an envenomed blade. His wife had brought
him to bitter shame.... "Arrogance, uncharitableness, cruelty." The
denunciation rang in his head day and night. He arrogant,
uncharitable, cruel? The charge staggered reason. His indignant
glance sweeping backward through the years could see nothing in his
life but continuous humility, charity, and kindness. He had not
deviated a hair's breath from irreproachable standards of conduct.
Arrogant? When Sybil, engaged in consequences of his tender sagacity
to a neighbouring magnate, a widowed ironmaster, eloped, at dead of
night on her wedding eve, with a penniless subaltern in the Indian
Army, he suffered humiliation before the countryside, with manly
dignity. No less humiliating had been his position and no less
resigned his attitude when Godfrey, declining to obey the tee-total,
non-smoking, early-to-bed, early-to-breakfast rules of the house,
declining also to be ordained and take up the living of Thereon in the
gift of the Lady of the Manor of Eresby, went off, in undutiful
passion, to Canada to pursue some godless and precarious career.
Uncharitableness? Cruelty? His children had defied him, and with
callous barbarity had cut all filial ties. And his wife? She had
lived in cotton-wool all her days. It was she who had been
cruel--inconceivably malignant.