IT was fortunate for Dr. Crawford that Shelverton folk could do without
him at a time when his presence was so much needed elsewhere. Still
more fortunate that Ida did not fret after her husband, but rather
encouraged him to remain with and comfort his parents.
In the case of his father, his care was not long needed. Once the
pastor seemed to rally a little, and a wistful, yearning look on his
face led them to think that he was conscious and could understand what
was said, though he was unable to reply.
But the light soon faded, and was followed by complete unconsciousness,
and then by the sleep from which there is no earthly waking. Naturally,
many arrangements had to be made, and it was fully three weeks before
Dr. Crawford was able to return to Shelverton.
During his absence, Ida was surprised by a visit from Lord Carnelly,
who came to Steynes-Cote without having written to announce his
intention. But this mattered little to Mrs. Crawford. Lindsay was under
her roof—a voluntary guest this time. Surely his presence was in every
sense a good augury, and, in spite of a year's apparent estrangement,
which had cost her a good many tears, the old love was warm in her
brother's heart as well as her own.
Never had Lord Carnelly appeared more affectionate to his sister, and
if it had not been for the uncomfortable consciousness that he had
failed in the trust reposed in him by his dead father, the days spent
at Steynes-Cote would have been the happiest he had known for years.
Indeed, the harassed man tried to forget his cares and to enjoy the
peaceful surroundings amid which he found himself.
"You have a beautiful home, a good husband, and now I suppose you are
also the richest of young mothers, Ida," said Lord Carnelly, as he
watched his sister's beautiful head bent over the cot of her sleeping
baby. "We have had so many baby treasures that I am afraid I hardly
appreciate them as I did when the first came."
"You ought to do, Lindsay; yours are all lovely children, and so they
ought to be with such handsome parents."
"I will repeat those pretty words to Beatrice, my dear. She will never
be too old to value a compliment on her good looks, though sometimes
I half wish her share of beauty had been smaller, or that it had been
less admired. A love of admiration grows with age in some people, and
is as bad in its way as a craving for gold. Take my advice, Ida, and do
not yield to it. Be happy in the love of the good man who has chosen
you to be his wife, and contented with the portion of this world, goods
with which he has been able to endow you."
"I may well be contented, Lindsay," replied Ida; "but still I did not
come to my husband, quite a penniless wife." And the girl drew herself
up with a little satisfied gesture which brought a hot flush to her
brother's face.
She had never spoken to him about money matters since her marriage, but
in the absence of her husband, and at this time, she thought she ought
to do so.
"I suppose you are wanting to arrange about paying over my little
fortune, Lindsay," she said. "I am so sorry Andrew is from home, but
you know what has called him away. Can I do instead?"
Lord Carnelly gave an inward shudder as he heard these words, but he
tried to smile as he answered lightly, "You forget, my dear girl; your
money was not settled upon you at your marriage, and you are a mere
nobody in the eye of the law. When Andrew said, 'With all my worldly
goods I thee endow,' he knew quite well that as he walked out of the
church, he not only retained absolute possession of them, but of
you and your worldly goods in addition. I shall have to settle with
Crawford, not with you."
"That will be all the same, or better, for I am an utter ignoramus
about business. If you were to pour my money into my lap, I should
gather up my skirts, run with it to Andrew, and say, 'Please, dear,
take this gold and turn it to account. You know far better what to do
with it than I do. It is too heavy for me to carry.'"
Lord Carnelly laughed outright at this picture. Nothing could have
better portrayed his sister's innocence of business matters than this
imaginary scene, in which he was supposed to pour her little fortune
into her lap in the shape of so much golden coin. But the laugh ended
abruptly, and the picture faded as one impossible of realization.
Subsequently, it was arranged that Lord Carnelly should meet his
brother-in-law in Edinburgh, where the doctor would be detained by
business on his homeward way.
As the former left Steynes-Cote, he took comfort from the thought that
his sister was well provided for.
"Crawford has a right to be angry, and I am prepared for some plain
speaking on his part, but I know he is not the man to visit my sins on
his wife's head," he thought; "she is safe enough, both in the present
and for the future."
That the withholding of Ida's money could be of any serious consequence
to Dr. Crawford never entered into the colonel's head.
The men met with a mutual misunderstanding to begin with. When Lord
Carnelly arrived at Steynes-Cote, Ida took it for granted that he was
come for the special purpose of paying over the five thousand pounds,
and she wrote to tell her husband so. Dr. Crawford was agreeably
surprised at the intelligence, and, after an exchange of inquiries and
expressions of condolence, he began to speak of business matters to the
colonel.
"Ida tells me you want to pay over her little fortune, and I am not
sorry for this, Carnelly," he said. "You know my family affairs so well
that I need hardly tell you that my poor father's death will, for a
time, entail additional expenses for me to meet. I have always helped
my parents. Now I must do more, as I am the best able. The next three
years will be the worst, then the young ones will begin to maintain
themselves."
Lord Carnelly hesitated, stammered, and finally said, "Ida scarcely
understood my object in running down to your place. I am sorry to say I
am not quite prepared with the money. I have the interest to the date
of Ida's birthday, but the principal—"
The speaker paused, and his eyes fell before the grave look of Dr.
Crawford, as he answered, "I thought I understood you to say that it
was safely invested."
"And so it was, Crawford, but not separately from my own. Of course
I am worth far more than the amount owing to Ida. But we have spent
rather more than we ought to have done, and I am short of ready money.
I thought, perhaps, you would take the year's interest, and wait a
little longer for the principal."
"I will do anything I can to accommodate you," replied the doctor;
"though, owing to recent circumstances, I cannot now so well afford
to do without the money. You see I expected it to be paid over to
Ida, and, believing she would have this, I made a little more liberal
provision for my mother than I should have felt justified in doing
without it."
"I should hardly have thought that such an addition to your income
would make an appreciable difference," said Lord Carnelly.
"And yet you say the paying of it would inconvenience you, who have, or
ought to have, four times my income," replied the doctor.
"But I have now eight children, and you have only one."
"I do not see what our several families have to do with this matter of
business, neither has the fact that you and I have always been friends
since we first knew each other. The question is one of right and wrong.
You and I both know that Ida ought to have received her portion when,
with your consent, she became my wife."
"I wish you had spoken about it; I could have paid it then by making a
push. It would have been a true kindness to insist, instead of letting
the time pass over."
This remark was rather hard upon the doctor, who had trusted his friend
so implicitly, and he could not help saying, "It was for you to speak,
Carnelly, not me."
"I know it, I know it," said the colonel. "I have been a dreadful
coward; I meant to make all right, but I was over-persuaded. But my
sister shall not lose a penny; I will give you a second mortgage on my
Lincolnshire property."
"A second mortgage! Oh, Carnelly, has it come to that already?" said
the doctor.
"What could I do?" groaned the colonel. "We had spent too much even in
India, and since our return, the money has seemed to fly. Beatrice was
so resolved on having a season in London, and could not be contented
with anything second-rate. 'It was just for once,' she said; and I was
foolish enough to yield, when I knew I could not afford the cost. She
is such a pretty woman, you know, Crawford, and sets off everything she
wears, and, naturally, she likes to look as well as her neighbours,"
said the colonel, with a touch of the old pride in his handsome wife.
"She is perhaps too fond of being admired, and I can't help feeling
proud of her too, when I see people's eyes following her, and know that
not a girl in her first season attracts more attention than Beatrice
does even now. Her dress is always the perfection of taste, and really,
sometimes, I feel so proud of her that I forget the cost. You know she
can be so very charming, Crawford."
The doctor was both touched and indignant, as he listened to Lord
Carnelly. The colonel was so brave on the battle-field, so cowardly
where it was a question of doing right at the cost of contradicting the
wife of whom, in spite of all her faults, he was so proud. He knew how
fascinating Lady Carnelly could be, and with what grace and dignity
she could hold her place in society and he knew, too, that the gallant
soldier was as wax in the hands of his wife, who appealed to his pride
in public, and ruled him in private by force of a strong will and a
selfish disposition.
Dr. Crawford hesitated a little before he answered Lord Carnelly. At
first, he felt inclined to say, "I will not take a mortgage."
Then he decided to give a contrary reply, feeling convinced that by so
doing he would rather help his brother-in-law than otherwise.
"If I do not accept Lindsay's terms, he is pretty certain to raise the
money to meet some other claim. By accepting them, I shall keep a hold
upon the property, and do him a service, whether I ever press my claim
or not."
So he said, "I will let the money remain, but on the terms proposed
by you, and shall be glad to have a definite settlement as soon as
possible."
Perhaps the colonel thought that his brother-in-law would be contented
to wait for the money, and trust to his promise without further
security. However, he could only thank him for past forbearance, and
say that the mortgage deed should be prepared at once. It cost him an
effort to add, "Would you care to put on another thousand taking the
two hundred and fifty of interest towards it?"
He was ashamed to ask, but ready money was scarce; it would be a wrench
to part with any, and his wife had bidden him try to retain this.
"Thank you, no," replied the doctor; "all my spare money is invested.
I was afraid I should have to call in a little owing to heavy recent
demands, but the interest will prevent this."
So the colonel could only pay it.
Then the doctor mentioned the jewellery which Lord and Lady Carnelly
had sent to his wife.
"I ask this in all kindness," he said, "but are the things paid for?"
"Not yet, but they shall be, Crawford, believe me. Trust me in this;
whatever stands over, those trinkets shall be paid for."
"I shall take care of that," replied the doctor. "Ida shall wear no
diamonds at the cost of a jeweller. You meant to be kind, Carnelly,
and I thank you all the same, but it was a mistake to send such costly
articles. Ida has no longing after new trinkets. She would tell you
that the bright eyes of her first-born are more to her than all the
diamonds in the world. She only values these because she thinks them a
proof of a brother's love."
"You will not take them from her, Crawford?" said the colonel, with a
look of distress.
"Certainly not. And more, I will not tell her a single word that has
passed between us respecting them. But I shall pay for them. The name
on the case told me where they were purchased. Give me the bill, if you
have it. It shall be settled at once, and Ida shall remain happy in the
thought that she wears her brother's gift."
It was humiliating for the colonel to hand over the jeweller's account,
but he knew he could not pay it, and would certainly never have
incurred such a debt but for his wife. The look on the doctor's face
was kind, and his tone and words conveyed no reproach as he said, "This
shall be our secret, Carnelly. Do not breathe it even to Beatrice."
An injunction which the colonel thankfully decided to obey.
He thought to himself, "Whilst Beatrice thinks the trinkets are owing
for, she will not go near the shop, so I shall be doubly relieved."
It was not gratifying for Dr. Crawford to discover that more than half
of the money he had received from Lord Carnelly must go to pay for
these so-called presents. But if the whole had been required, he would
have paid it cheerfully, rather than allow the matter to stand over
indefinitely.
When the doctor reached Steynes-Cote, Ida met him with tender welcoming
words and expressions of sympathy. "It has been such a sad time for
you, Andrew," she said. "I have thought of you hourly, and of your
mother too. I wondered if she would like to come and stay with us for a
time; it might cheer her a little to have the change."
"She is best in her own neighbourhood, I think, dear," replied the
doctor. "Besides, she has the boys to care for, and hers has always
been such a busy life that inaction would be bad for her now."
"But when the boys are away, how lonely she will be! And how sad to
think that your father could not say a word of farewell! I do not think
anything could give me comfort under such circumstances."
"I hope you may never be called on to pass through such a trial, my
darling. But if you should be, may you have the same comfort which
sustains my dear mother in her loneliness and trouble! The blessed
sense of her Saviour's presence cheers the one; the knowledge that her
husband sought the Lord in his youth, and served Him all through life,
takes the sting from her bereavement, and gives her the prospect of an
eternal reunion. This is what I look forward to, Ida, for you and me,
not merely to be united on earth, but after death in the presence of
God for ever."
Dr. Crawford looked in his wife's face as she clung to him with girlish
trust and tender clasp, but she did not speak in answer to his solemn
words. She did not say, "I, too, have a hope which reaches beyond time."
[Illustration: DR. CRAWFORD LOOKED IN HIS WIFE'S FACE.]
Her next words had relation to Lord Carnelly and his meeting with her
husband.
"I suppose Lindsay went into business matters with you when you met in
Edinburgh," she said. "Is all settled now?"
"It will be soon, dear. Your money is to be invested on a new security,
a mortgage, in fact. Carnelly paid me a year's interest, so you must
always come to me as your banker, the same as before."
This was enough for Ida. She took it for granted that everything had
been arranged to her husband's satisfaction, and dismissed the subject
from her mind.
In after days, Dr. Crawford regretted that he had not given his
wife his full confidence. It would have saved much subsequent
misunderstanding.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]