The Rightful Heir
And words of true love pass from tongue to tongue,
As singing birds from one bough to another.'--_Longfellow._
When Gwen had the savings of the old women dug up from the roots of
their favourite apple-tree, she found to her amazement that no less
than 95 pounds had been put away in the old teapot, and for some time
she hesitated about appropriating it.
Miss Miller came round to advise, for she was most excited about it all.
'I have been making inquiries, my dear, about their relatives as if you
feel any qualms about taking their savings, I thought you would be glad
to hear of their next-of-kin. But they seem to have no one left
belonging to them. A friend of mine in this neighbourhood was left 300
pounds by an old nurse once. She founded a parish room and club with
it, and I need not say that if you wish to give it away in charity, I
shall be very glad to advise you. I said to Wilfrid that I did not
believe you would keep it yourself, for though tales have been flying
about that you and your two younger sisters have lost your money, I can
see that you are not destitute. You still keep a very good table, for
Mrs. Stone tells me she supplies you with poultry and eggs, and is not
able to sell me her fowls under 2s. 6d; as she says you always give a
fair price for your things.'
'I have quite made up my mind about the way in which I shall use it,
Miss Miller,' said Gwen, trying hard to speak politely.
There was never any love lost between that good lady and herself, and
Agatha dreaded every encounter between them.
'On some pet charity of your own?'
'You may call it so, if you like;' and nothing more would Gwen say on
the subject.
Later on, she told Agatha she would send it straight to Walter.
'He is on my mind dreadfully. Not one word of reproach did he ever
give me, and I am thankful I can help him this much. It is more of a
charity to give it to him than let it drift through Miss Miller's
fingers. What an odious woman she is!'
'Oh, hush! I can't bear to hear you talk so. She has no tact, and
makes many blunders, but is really thoroughly kind at heart. I never
mind her speeches. I don't think any one does who really knows her.
But I am very glad you are sending it out to Walter, and I shall be
able to add a little to it when you do so. Our expenses are very small
now, and if you will not let me spend any on yourself, I shall gladly
send it abroad.'
'How well old Nannie's text has fitted into your life!' said Gwen,
musing: '"Trust in the Lord, and do good, . . . and verily thou shalt
be fed." You have proved that promise true, for you are the only one
of us all that is provided for life.'
I think we have all been cared for so far,' said Agatha quietly. 'You
will find your verse no less true than mine: "Commit thy way unto the
Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass."'
Gwen was silent. She could not talk freely about her feelings to any
one, but she had, as she expressed it to Deb, 'learnt her lesson.' Her
self-confidence had been shaken to the roots, and she was no longer
desirous of following her own plans to the exclusion of all advice from
others. Having discovered that she could make mistakes, she began to
wonder whether her life had not been full of them; and the gradual
conviction of this drove her to her knees, and led her to the feet of
the great Teacher as a little child.
One evening, soon after poor Deb's death, Agatha and Gwen were sitting
down to a cosy evening together, when they were surprised by the sudden
entrance of Alick Lester. He seemed strangely perturbed, and very
anxious to pour out his trouble into Agatha's ears. When Gwen made a
movement to go, he begged her to remain.
'You will all know it soon. It will be no secret, but I'd give a good
deal to have prevented it coming out now. May I begin from the
beginning?'
Then, taking a seat, he plunged into it at once.
'You know I found some papers in my father's cupboard. He knew of
them, but had never given me a hint of it, except that he had made me
promise to be home if possible last autumn. It appears that my
grandfather before he died made a codicil to his will, and handed it
over to the keeping of my father, forbidding him to ever show it to any
one, until the right time came to act upon it. I suppose the poor old
man may have wished to right matters a little, and had got over his
bitterness about my father's marriage. I know he took a good deal of
notice of me as a small boy, but I never dreamt he had any special
reason for it. The codicil simply transferred the whole of his
property from the hands of my uncle to myself when I should reach my
twenty-sixth year. This I did last September, and this accounts for my
father's anxiety to have me back at that time. It appears now that my
uncle's valet got wind of this--how, and where, I can't imagine--but he
told my uncle he knew my father held some important papers in his hands
that concerned him. And after my father's death, as you know, Miss
Dane, my uncle came down here to try and get hold of them. Well, after
our return, I suppose the delight of having Roger back again put the
whole affair out of my uncle's head, but lately he hasn't been very
well--at least that is the most charitable way to look at it--and he
has been perpetually nagging at me about the contents of the cupboard,
and asking to see them.'
'I cannot think why you did not show them at once to him,' interrupted
Agatha.
The young fellow looked a little confused.
'I daresay you may think me an ass, but I could not for the life of me
bear the thought of turning the old man out after all these years. He
hasn't got many more years to live, and has seemed so perfectly secure
in his possession that I hadn't the heart to show the codicil to him.
Of course, I know most people would call me a fool--our old lawyer
practically did so--but I put off doing anything about it, as much for
the sake of Roger, perhaps, as his father.
'Well, last night I lost my temper, and when my uncle began to attack
my father's good name, and hint that he had dishonourably kept family
papers from the head of the family, I whipped out the codicil in his
face, and asked him to read it through. Of course there was an awful
row. At first he thought I had forged it, and he telegraphed to his
lawyer, who came down the first thing this morning, and we had a great
consultation in the library. Then my uncle shut himself up in his
room, and has refused to see me since. I don't know how it will all
end. I have begged and implored Roger to persuade him to stay on, and
let things be as they were; but he won't hear of it, and meditates
leaving at once. I feel awfully low about it, but what can I do?'
'You are a very quixotic young man,' said Gwen, unable to keep from
smiling at the woe-begone face in front of her. 'You should be
thankful it's all out, and your uncle knows the truth.'
'Yes, and to a certain extent I am. But I don't want them to clear
out, and leave me in possession. I never expected to be a rich man,
and don't altogether like the idea of settling down here.'
Gwen laughed again, and left the room, saying, 'You shouldn't quarrel
with good fortune when it comes to you.'
For a moment there was silence, then Alick turned to Agatha a little
awkwardly, a blush coming to his bronzed cheeks.
'Miss Dane, do you know my one comfort in all this? It is thinking
that now I have a right to speak to your sister.'
'To Elfie?' asked Agatha.
'Yes, I am sure you won't raise an objection, will you? I know I'm not
half good enough for her; but if she'll only listen to me, I feel as if
life will be too good to live.'
And for the next half-hour Agatha listened to a flow of eloquence on
Elfie's perfections, which amused and yet touched her, for it showed
her how deeply devoted the young man was in his love.
Major Lester was not long in leaving the Hall. He announced his
intention of travelling abroad with his son, and before a month was
gone Alick was left alone. The cousins parted with mutual regret.
Roger took the blow to his future prospects bravely and manfully, and
told Alick that he looked forward to see his bride at the Hall very
soon.
And then, one day, without a word to any one, Alick travelled down to
Dane Hall.
Elfie had been having a trying time--a time that tested all her powers
of cheerfulness to carry her through it. Mrs. Dane was confined to her
room with bronchitis, not ill enough to lie still and leave the
responsibility of her household to Elfie, but perpetually questioning
the girl's management, and giving contrary orders to the servants, who
were all in a state of irritation and turbulence. Mr. Dane was
impatient of the slightest hitch in the domestic machinery, and, now
that his wife was too indisposed to hear his complaints, vented all his
ill-humour upon his young cousin.
But Elfie's sunny temper did not forsake her; and if, in the privacy of
her own room, home-sickness and loneliness got the better of her at
times, she always preserved a cheerful front in public, and earnestly
strove, not only to do her duty, but to be happy in doing it, and to
make those around her happy too.
It was a bright, spring afternoon, when, at last relieved from
attendance on the invalid, Elfie took her hat and went out into the
garden to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine. She was singing away to
herself and gathering some jonquils for the dinner-table, when she was
joined by her cousin James.
'Elfrida, I am told that neither of the carriage horses can be taken
out. It is extraordinary that with four horses doing hardly anything
there should be this constant difficulty in getting one of them to
drive.'
'Yes,' said Elfie a little carelessly, 'I have always heard that the
more horses you have the less work you get out of them. Where do you
want to go, Cousin James? Can't you take Firefly in the dog-cart?'
'It does not matter to you where I wish to go. I wish to drive the
pair, and I am convinced this new groom is an utterly incompetent man.
Ever since we have been in this house we have had a perpetual change of
servants, and I was in hopes that when you came it would be different.'
'I am not responsible for your grooms. I have nothing to do with
them,' said Elfie brightly. 'I should ask Fenton what he think of this
new groom.'
'Fenton is insufferable with his insolent bearing and behaviour, and
you encourage him in his familiarity. I heard you were taking tea with
him and his wife yesterday. I must beg you never to do such a thing
again as long as you are under my roof.'
'You must remember, Cousin James, Fenton has known us all since we were
tiny children. He gave us our first riding lessons, and Aunt Mildred
treated him very differently to most of the servants. He lived with
her for forty years, he was telling me.'
'I don't wish for any arguments, if I give you an order. I think you
sometimes forget your position with us. You are here to relieve your
cousin Helen of all worry and anxiety about household matters, and it
has been a great disappointment to us both that you seem incapable of
keeping things straight. I hear that the cook is leaving, and has been
exceedingly insolent to your cousin, telling her that she will not have
two mistresses. I do not wish to interfere in these matters, but I
must request you to make more effort to maintain the discipline
necessary in such a large household.'
Elfie was so accustomed to these daily grumblings that she went on
picking her flowers in silence; the brightness of the day seemed
already clouded for her, and she gave an involuntary sigh, as after a
little further complaining her cousin walked away.
'They have it all, wealth and comfort all round them; and yet are two
discontented, miserable people. I wouldn't exchange places with them
for all the world.'
'A gentleman in the drawing-room has called to see you, miss.'
It was the footman brought the message.
Elfie started, flushed, and then went into the house to meet her fate.
There was only one person it could be, and her instinct told her that
life would be different after this interview to what it was at present.
Her time of uncertainty and waiting was now at an end, and Dane Hall
would soon be her home no more.