AN AMERICAN HEIRESS
For some time after rejoining the company, Florence was so busy with her
thoughts that she paid little attention to what was going on about her.
She was aroused from her abstraction by a sharp voice:
“Don't you think Captain Hornaby is a very handsome young man?” Florence
looked and found that her questioner was Lady Elfrida Hastings, the only
sister of the Earl. When that lady had visited them at Nahant, she had
considered her the embodiment of all the female virtues. She recalled
her statuesque repose, and her aristocratic manner which had so pleased
her father. She also remembered the morning when she was discovered by
Maude practising the Lady Elfrida's poses, and her sister's inquiry as
to whether she had a chill and wanted the quinine pills.
Feeling the necessity of saying something, she replied: “I haven't
noticed him particularly.”
The Lady Elfrida, perfect gentlewoman that she was, said severely,
for her, “Your failure to do so, certainly was not due to lack of
opportunity.”
So, her long absence in his company had been noticed. She was at a loss
for a reply, when to her great relief the Earl approached and asked if
she would play a certain piece which he had admired very much when in
America.
“What was its name?”
“I can't remember,” said the Earl. “It ran something like this,” and he
hummed a few measures.
“Oh,” cried Florence, “Old Folks at Home.” The scene through which she
had gone with the Captain had awakened deep emotions, and her voice was
in the temperamental condition to give a sadly-weird effect to the lines
of the chorus. When she sang
“Oh, my heart is sad and weary”
the Lady Elfrida turned to Mrs. Ellice, the Rector's wife, and remarked,
“There was a rumour that Captain Hornaby was greatly interested in Miss
Sawyer, but from something she told me to-night I do not think it will
be a match.”
“Why, what did she say?” asked Mrs. Ellice with natural feminine
curiosity as regards love affairs.
“I hardly feel warranted in repeating it,” said the Lady Elfrida, “as it
was given to me in confidence.”
Later in the evening the Lady Elfrida sought Captain Hornaby. “My dear
Captain, don't you think Miss Sawyer sings divinely?”
The Captain, with his mind on Col. Spencer and the tenfold check,
replied, rather brusquely, “I'm not a great lover of negro melodies.”
The Lady Elfrida felt sure that Captain Hornaby was still an “eligible,”
but she reflected that he was a fourth son and dependent upon the bounty
of his father and elder brother, and that her dowry must come from her
brother who, in her opinion, had a very extravagant wife--but none of
those American girls had any idea of economy.
The next morning, Captain Hornaby went to London in search of Colonel
Spencer. He visited his clubs, and, because it was necessary, many of
the gambling places, but his quest was fruitless. As a last resort he
went to the War Office and learned that the Colonel had sailed the day
before to join his regiment in India.
The Captain reported the failure of his mission to Florence.
“I have been talking the matter over with Aunt Ella. She advises me to
send a cable message to father asking what bank the check was deposited
in and by whom.”
“He may have cashed it at your father's bank,” said the Captain.
“Then Aunt Ella says my father can see the bank officers and make sure
that the Colonel got the money.”
“I will go back to London to-morrow and send the message in your name.”
“The story deepens,” said the Captain, when he returned with the reply
from the Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer. It read,
“State National. Deposited five hundred. Revere House. Interviewed my
bank.”
“What does it mean?” asked Florence. “So many words are omitted. I can't
make sense of it.”
“It means,” said the Captain, “that Col. Spencer is innocent. He was
staying at the Revere House when I paid him his three hundred dollars.
He must have cashed your father's check at the hotel, they paying him
five hundred dollars only, and they, I mean the hotel proprietors,
deposited it in their bank, the State National.”
“But what do the last three words mean?”
“They mean that some one in your father's bank raised the check and he
has seen the bank officers about it.”
“I'm so glad,” cried Florence. “You must come and explain it all to Aunt
Ella.”
She was greatly pleased to learn that Captain Hornaby was innocent of
any complicity in the embezzlement, and said to Florence: “You will get
a letter from your father telling you who the real criminal is,” and
turning to the Captain, continued, “We go back to Fernborough Hall
to-morrow, Captain Hornaby, but when that letter comes we will send for
you.”
“I can bear the suspense now that Colonel Spencer and myself are free
from any charge of criminality, but I greatly regret, Miss Sawyer, that
your father has met with such a heavy loss.”
“Don't worry, yet, Captain,” said Aunt Ella. “Florence's father won't
be out any money if there's any legal way of making the bank bear the
loss.”
When Aunt Ella and Florence returned to Fernborough Hall they told Alice
the wonderful story.
“I am so glad for your sake, Florence, and the Captain's too. I think
Aunt Ella's suggestion about sending the cablegram to your father was an
excellent one.”
The story was told, also, to Sir Stuart. He was gratified to learn that
two officers of Her Majesty's army had been freed from the charge of
embezzlement, but deplored the fact that gambling was so prevalent among
them.
“I am an Englishman born and bred,” said he, “but I think the law of
primogeniture is, as a general rule, a bad one. Driving, as it does,
the younger sons into the army, the navy, the church, and the law may be
beneficial, for the branches of our national defence and the professions
must be recruited from a stratum of intelligent men; the lack of money
may be a spur to ambition in many instances, but it often leads
to devious practices, and--” he saw that he had three interested
listeners--“the whole system is contrary to your countrymen's idea that
all men are created free and equal. While I cannot accept that doctrine
_in toto_, I do believe that the bestowal of titles and fortune upon the
eldest son is attended with grave evils, not only among our nobility,
but in our royal successions. The Almighty does not follow such a law
in endowing his children, and it is contrary to Nature's _dictum_ 'the
survival of the fittest.'”
Sir Stuart had expressed such opinions during his term in Parliament.
The path of the political pioneer is strewn with temporary defeats, but
all reforms, based upon truth, are ultimately successful, or life would
be a stagnant pool instead of a river of progress.
A letter from Maude contained a solution of the mystery.
“DEAR AUNT ELLA AND SISTER FLO:--What a rumpus there has been about that
raised check. Father was as dumb as an oyster about the affair until he
had it all settled, then he told ma and me.
“How you two feminines must have suffered--one from hopeless love--and
the other from helpless sympathy. But it is all over now, and the
probity of two, presumably, gallant officers is vindicated, while
the paying teller of father's bank is behind the bars with a certain
prospect of years of manual labour for bed and board. Why will men be so
foolish? Easily answered. The love of gold, not made in an honest way,
but by speculating with other folks' money. Mr. Barr, the aforesaid
teller, is a nice young fellow with a wife and two children, but his
life is wrecked. Of course she will get a divorce and try to find a
better man. We are all well, including Mr. Merry. He intended to take
the place in father's office that Quincy spoke about, but Harry--there,
I've written it, so will let it go--had a better position offered him
by Mr. Curtis Carter, one of Quincy's old friends, and he's doing
splendidly Mr. Carter told me.
“I am heartbroken about Quincy. I trust Alice's hopes may be realized
and most of the time I share them.
“How's that nephew of mine? Send him over and we'll bring him up a
Yankee boy. He's no Englishman.
“We are all well, and everybody sends love to everybody. MAUDE.
“P. S. Father didn't lose anything on the check. The bank paid the money
back to him.”
* * * * * * *
Aunt Ella kept her promise to the Captain and the part of Maude's letter
which concerned the check was read to him. He improved his opportunity
by asking Florence to be his wife.
“My father was greatly pleased with you and will welcome you as a
daughter.”
“Whether my father will welcome you as a son is the question,” said
Florence. “My father is a very wealthy man. I know the conventionalities
and requirements of English life, and although my love for you is not
dependent upon your having or not having a fortune, I cannot become a
burden to you, or dependent upon your family, as I might become if my
father refused his consent.”
“You American girls are intensely practical.”
“Are not Englishmen equally so when they pay court to American
heiresses? I don't mean you, of course.”
“My father and brothers will allow me twenty-five hundred pounds a year,
about twelve thousand dollars of your money.”
“Could we live, as we have both lived, on that income, Reginald?”
“To be honest, Florence, I don't think we could have a town house, a
place in the country, and entertain much.”
“Certainly not, Reginald. If my father gives his consent, I will be your
wife whenever you say. If he refuses, we must wait.”
The next mail brought a short letter for Florence from her sister.
“DEAR FLO:--I didn't want to put what I'm going to write now in my other
letter. I suppose Reggie will propose now. Don't you accept him until
Father is told. You love money and style, and the first enables you to
indulge in the second.
“I don't blame Reggie for borrowing if he was hard up, but knew he could
pay. But most men are deceitful creatures, anyway. Don't let Aunt Ella
write to father. He was always sore about her influence over Quincy, and
he mustn't think Aunt Ella made this match. If the Countess would write
him, puffing up Reggie's ancestors, and his blue blood and ancestral
home, and a hint (I hope it is so) that the Hornaby's are a very wealthy
family and related (distantly of course) to royalty, Pater may say
'yes,' and give you his blessing. I do, if that will help any. Your
loving sister,
“MAUDE.”
* * * * * * *
Florence had to make confidantes of Aunt Ella and Alice. She repeated
her conversation with Reginald and allowed them to read Maude's letter.
“Maude has a level head,” was Aunt Ella's comment. “I'll go and have a
talk with Linda. If she will write your father in the Captain's behalf,
I think things will come out all right.”
Linda was not only willing to assure the Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer
that Capt. Hornaby belonged to an old and honourable family, but also
that he did not seek his daughter's hand because her father was a
wealthy man, for the Hornaby estate was a large one, and the rentals
sufficient to allow the Captain an adequate income, although there were
other brothers to share the patrimony.
The Hon. Nathaniel deliberated before answering. Florence had always
been a dutiful daughter and the fact that she would not become engaged
without his consent was an acknowledgment of his parental influence
which was vastly pleasing to his vanity. He had been tricked into
accepting Alice as his son's wife, and he knew that Maude, when she
made up her mind to marry would be guided little, if any, by his advice.
Filial love and respect deserved their reward.
He wrote the Countess giving his consent to the marriage, and, what was
most important, declared his intention of allowing Mrs. Captain Hornaby
an income of fifteen thousand dollars annually, and a liberal provision
at his death. He was very sorry, but pressing legal duties would prevent
his attendance at the wedding if it took place in England.
The Countess insisted upon the wedding taking place at Ellersleigh. She
had obtained the, otherwise, obdurate father's consent, and demanded
compensation for her services.
So many weddings have been described that novelty in that line is
impossible. Sufficient to say that the Countess fulfilled expectations
and more, and the event was the year's sensation in Sussex, the echoes
of which reached imperial London, and far off democratic America.
The Lady Elfrida Hastings was present at the wedding. She congratulated
the Captain and his bride, but took occasion to say to the latter,--
“My dear, don't sing those sentimental American songs any more. That
night you looked so _triste_ I was afraid the present delightful affair
would never become a reality.”
Florence did not confess that, on the evening in question, she had
misgivings herself.