It is not long since, upon the death of a well-known lawyer, it was
found that he had made a long and elaborate will for himself, duly
signed and witnessed, but no single clause of which was good in law,
though he had been in the habit of drawing up wills for others during
all his professional life. It is not an easy matter to dispose of
property amongst a number of persons in such a way that no one shall be
able to find a flaw which may invalidate the whole document, even if the
signing and witnessing be in order and unassailable.
For a long time past Alexander Junior had been much interested in the
subject, and he believed that he had mastered it unaided, in all its
details, so as to be able to detect any technical illegality at a
glance. Being quite unable to foresee the nature of Robert Lauderdale’s
intentions, he had done his best to prepare himself at all points, in
case the will should turn out contrary to his hopes and wishes, as had
actually occurred. At first sight, however, his anticipations were
disappointed. So far as he could judge, the will was unassailable,
though it contained very unusual provisions. If it were admitted to
probate, it looked as though it would be unassailable.
It had of course been in the power of the testator to leave the whole
property to whom he pleased, irrespective of relationship, or to divide
it amongst such of the living relations as he chose to favour. But, in
theory, he had favoured no one. He had willed as though the whole
portion had belonged to his grandfather, and had descended from the
first Lauderdale who had emigrated, to all the members of his family in
its present ramifications. It was not easy to assail the justice of the
idea upon which the will had thus been founded, and there could be no
question of attacking it on the ground that the testator was not of
perfectly sound mind.
Clearly, however, it would be vastly to Alexander Junior’s advantage if
the will were not allowed to stand. Katharine Ralston would get half the
fortune, indeed, but Alexander Senior would get the other half. This, in
the estimation of Alexander Junior, would be tantamount to getting it
himself. It would be more easy, considering his father’s age and
infirmities, and especially in consideration of the old gentleman’s
known tendency to give away everything he possessed, to have a trust
constituted, at his own request, so far as the world should know, which
trust should manage the property and pay him the income arising from it
during the remaining years of his life. In the ordinary course of human
events, Alexander Senior could not be expected to live many years
longer, and his son believed it would be very easy to influence him in
the making of his will, or to prove that he had been of unsound mind in
case the will were not satisfactory. Then the whole fortune would come
to his son as next of kin.
But Alexander Junior was met at the outset by the difficulty of finding
any fault with the will of Robert Lauderdale. It was clear from the date
that it had been made during his last illness, in the interval between
the day when he had first been very near death, on which Alexander had
met Katharine in the house, and his ultimate demise. Several weeks had
passed, during which it had been expected that he might recover, and he
had found ample time to reconsider his last wishes. It was immediately
clear to Alexander that this was probably not the will of which his
uncle had spoken to his daughter. It might be. It was possible that he
had told her what he intended to do, and had then done it. But it was
improbable; for when she had seen him that first time, he had not been
expected to live, and it was not likely that he then looked forward to
the possibility of drawing up a document requiring considerable thought
and great care.
It was quite clear that Alexander must put the matter into the hands of
a keen and experienced man without delay, and he lost no time in doing
so. If he had not acted quickly, the will might have been proved and
administered in a few days, and his chance would be gone. Within
twenty-four hours it was known that the will would be contested by
Alexander Lauderdale Junior on behalf of the next of kin, being his
father and Katharine Ralston.
At this news there was a great commotion in all the Lauderdale tribe,
and sides and parties declared themselves immediately. The prediction
that there would be a tremendous disturbance of the family elements was
immediately realized, for the interests at stake on all sides were very
large. The ranks were marshalled and the battle began.
Clearly it was to the interest of the Lauderdales and the Ralstons to
invalidate the will if possible, while it was that of the Brights to
sustain it, and the heads of the opposing parties were actually
Alexander Lauderdale Junior and Hamilton Bright. It should have followed
that the Brights should have stood alone against all the others, a state
of things which Alexander believed should influence the court in his
favour, since in common opinion it would not seem exactly fair that a
small family of distant relations should get as much as all the nephews
and nieces of the deceased together. In the matter of wills, the courts
often have a considerable latitude within which to exercise discretion,
and no circumstance which bears upon the equity of the case is
insignificant.
Though Alexander Junior had neither a very profound nor a very
diplomatic intelligence, he saw at once, and his lawyer dwelt upon the
point, that it would be greatly to his advantage if he could establish
an evident solidarity amongst the next of kin as against the Brights,
who would profit by the will as it stood. It became his object therefore
to assure the coöperation of the Ralstons.
At first sight it seemed to him that Mrs. Ralston should without doubt
support him. He could not easily conceive that she should hesitate
between accepting a quarter of the fortune to be divided between her son
and herself, and the half of it to be held in her own right. He judged
her by himself, as people of strong passions judge others. He threw out
of consideration any sentiment she might have in regard to the
fulfilment of Robert Lauderdale’s wishes, and made it purely a question
of money for her, as it was for himself. He did not believe that any
enmity which her son might, and undoubtedly did, feel for him, could
stand in the way of such a power as twenty millions of money to
influence her. His lawyer, who did not know her well, agreed with him.
But when it became necessary to find out what Mrs. Ralston meant to do,
Alexander was conscious that he might be wrong in his calculations.
Much against his will he secretly admitted that there might be other
motives at work besides the love of money, especially in a case where a
large fortune was a certainty, whatever happened, and where the choice
lay not between much and nothing, but between much and more. Mrs.
Ralston returned answer that she desired to consider the matter and
wished to know how soon she must make a definite reply.
Then she consulted John.
“I don’t know what to do, Jack,” she said, seating herself in her
favourite chair in his study.
It was late in the afternoon, and it was raining. But it was warm, and
one of the windows was raised a little. The smell of the wet pavement
and the soft swish of the shower came up from the street.
“Why should you do anything, mother?” asked Ralston. “However--I don’t
know--” he checked himself suddenly and became thoughtful.
“What is it, Jack? Why do you hesitate?” asked his mother. “I hesitate,
too. I want to know what you think about it.”
Ralston reflected in silence for a few minutes, before he spoke.
“There are so many ways of looking at it,” he said at last. “In the
first place, you and I should naturally like to carry out the dear old
man’s wishes, shouldn’t we? That’s our first instinct, I suppose. Isn’t
it?”
“Of course it is. There can be no question of that.”
“Yes. You and I always agree. We were both fond of him, and we’re both
grateful to him. We both want things to be done as he wished. He’s tried
to be just all round, and if he hasn’t been quite fair in leaving the
Brights so much, it’s because justice isn’t always exactly fair. Law is
one thing and equity’s another, all the world over. His general idea was
to make litigation impossible, and in carrying it out the principle
happened to favour the Brights. It might have happened to favour us
instead.”
“Yes. That’s plain,” said Mrs. Ralston. “That’s one side of the case.
But there’s the other.”
“More than one other, perhaps. In the first place, if poor uncle Robert
did anything that’s not good in law, I’ve no business to advise you to
support his mistake out of sentiment, and to lose twenty millions by
it.”
“Put that out of the question, Jack.”
“No--I can’t. It’s a first-rate reason against my giving you any advice
at all. I ought not to influence you. You should act for yourself. Only,
as we agree about things generally, we’re talking it over.”
“No,” answered Mrs. Ralston. “It’s not that. It’s your children. If I
should stand out against Alexander on the ground of sentiment, I may be
keeping money from your children, or their children, which they have
much more claim to have than the Crowdies’ descendants, for instance.
And you must think of that, too. Hamilton Bright’s getting on towards
forty. I suppose he doesn’t marry because he’s still in love with
Katharine, poor fellow. But if he doesn’t marry soon, he probably never
will. At his age men get into grooves. He’s devoted to his mother, and
with all her good qualities I don’t believe she’d be a pleasant
mother-in-law, if Hamilton brought his wife to the house. He’ll see
that, and unless he falls in love rather late, he won’t marry for any
other reason. Well--he and aunt Maggie will leave their money to
Hester’s children, if she has any. There’s no reason why they should
have such an enormous amount. They’re very distant relations, anyhow. I
wonder how uncle Robert didn’t see that. There’ll be an accumulation of
money enough for twenty ordinary fortunes, if things turn out in that
way.”
“Yes--but you wouldn’t leave the Brights out altogether, mother, would
you? That’s what will happen, if the will won’t hold.”
“We’ll make a compromise and give them enough.”
“A few millions,” suggested Ralston, with a little laugh. “Isn’t it
funny that we should be talking about such sums in real earnest? But
Alexander can’t see it in that light.”
“Well--if he doesn’t? We can do it alone in that case. What’s a million
in forty?”
“Two and a half per cent,” answered Ralston, promptly, from sheer force
of the new habit he had acquired at the bank.
“You’re turning into a business man,” laughed his mother. “I didn’t mean
that. I meant it would be little enough.”
“Yes--but Ham wouldn’t take it. You know him as well as I do. He’ll have
his rights or nothing. Honestly, there’s no reason on earth why you
should make him a present of a million, if the law doesn’t give it to
him. And there can’t be any comparison in this case, because Alexander
means to have everything for his father, and then lock him up in
Bloomingdale and manage the fortune in his own Trust Company. For the
Brights it means forty millions or nothing--not a red cent.”
“I suppose you’re right about that. And Hamilton’s your friend, Jack.”
“He’s been a good friend to me. But he’s not the sort of fellow to turn
on me because I’m opposed to him in a suit. Still--he couldn’t help
feeling that it must make a difference. He wouldn’t be human if he
didn’t. You mustn’t blame him for it.”
“Blame him! Of course not! Who would? He’s the one who has everything at
stake. Well, Jack, what shall we do? We’ve got to decide.”
“It’s not easy. Mother--why don’t you send for Harry Brett and put the
whole thing in his hands? He’s a perfectly honourable man--there aren’t
many like him. Tell him what your position is, and then wash your hands
of the matter. That seems to me to be by far the best thing to do. Tell
him just how far you feel that you should like to carry out uncle
Robert’s wishes, and all you’ve told me. He’s absolutely honest, and
he’s a gentleman. If the law is plainly for us, and there’s no question
about it, then let him take it. But if Alexander’s going to try and get
round it by quibbling, Brett will stand up against him like a man. He’s
a fine fellow, Brett. I like him. You can be sure that he’ll do the
right thing.”
“I think that’s very good advice. I’ll see him and get him to answer the
letter. I suppose the next thing will be that Alexander will come to see
me and want to persuade me, especially if Brett’s for upholding the
will. If he does, I won’t say anything. What I hate is the uncertainty
of it all. Until it’s settled you and Katharine can’t consider
yourselves married. At least, you could--but I suppose you won’t.”
“She shan’t go back to Clinton Place, at all events,” said Ralston. “The
next time she goes through that door, she shall go as my wife. That
brute has ill-treated her enough, and he shan’t have another chance. Of
course, she can’t go on staying at the Brights’ through all this. That’s
another thing. It won’t be pleasant for her to feel that her father’s
trying his best to keep them out of the fortune, and to have to sit down
to dinner with them every day and hear it discussed. Besides--poor Ham’s
deadly in love still, in his dear old heavy way. I wish she’d go to the
Crowdies’. I tried to make her go the other day--”
“But that would be just as bad,” said Mrs. Ralston. “Worse, in fact.
Crowdie wouldn’t be half so careful how he talked as Bright would be.”
“That’s true. Well--she’ll just have to go and stay with the three Miss
Miners, then. It won’t be gay, but it won’t be unpleasant, at all
events.”
“Upon my word, Jack, you’d better let me ask her here. At all events, we
can keep her father away. Go and see her and try to persuade her to
come. Or I’ll go. I can manage it better. If you’ll let me tell her that
you’ve told me about your marriage, it will be easier. Otherwise she’ll
have that on her mind as a reason for not coming. After all, there’s no
especial reason why she should not know, is there? And then, Jack--you
don’t know how I should like to feel as though she were really your
wife! I’ve always wanted her for you.”
Ralston kissed his mother’s hand affectionately, and held it in his own
a moment.
“There’s no reason,” he said, presently. “I think you’ll love each other
as I love you both.”
“If she loves you, I shall,” answered Mrs. Ralston, and her face set
itself oddly. “If she doesn’t--I think I could kill her.”
In this way they agreed as far as possible upon the position they would
assume in the great family quarrel which was imminent, and, on the
whole, they seemed to have chosen wisely.