Spring opened again, and the days glided swiftly on towards summer; and
yet, so far as the movements of the executors could be traced, nothing
had been done in the work of searching for the heirs. One day, early in
June, Mrs. Montgomery sent for Mr. Wallingford. On attending her, she
placed in his hands a communication which she had just received. It was
from the executors, giving notice in a kind and respectful way, that,
for the interest of the legal heirs, and their own security, it would be
necessary for them to assume full possession of the mansion and grounds,
unless she felt willing to pay a rental that was equivalent to the
interest on their value.
“I have expected this,” said the lady; “and, so far from considering
myself aggrieved, feel grateful that a quiet residence here has been so
long accorded me.”
“You will remove?”
“There is no other course left. My income will not justify a rent of
some three thousand dollars.”
“As the property is unproductive, no such rent as that will be
required.”
“The letter says, 'a rental equivalent to the interest on their value.'”
“I will see Judge Bigelow this morning, and ascertain precisely what
views are held in regard to this matter.”
They were sitting near one of the parlor windows that looked out upon
the portion of the grounds that sloped away towards the stream, that
threw its white folds of water from one rocky ledge to another
in graceful undulations. As Mr. Wallingford ceased speaking, Mrs.
Montgomery turned her head quickly and looked out. The sound of voices
had reached her ears. Three men had entered the grounds, and were
passing the window at a short distance.
“Who are they?” asked Mr. Wallingford. Then, answering his own question,
he said, “Oh, I see; Judge Bigelow, Squire Floyd, and Ralph Dewey, his
son-in-law.”
The three men, after going a few hundred rods in the direction of the
stream, turned and stood for some minutes looking at the house,
and talking earnestly. Dewey appeared to have the most to say, and
gesticulated quite freely. Then they moved on to that portion of the
stream where the water went gliding down the mimic rapids, and remained
there for a considerable time. It was plain that some scheme was in
their heads, for they took measurement by pacing off the grounds in
various directions; drew together in close conference at times; then
separated, each making some examination for himself; and again stood in
close deliberation. At last, as if satisfied with their investigations,
they returned by way of the mansion, and passed out without calling.
“Put that and that together, and there is a meaning in this procedure
beyond the simple rental of the place,” said Wallingford.
“What is your inference?” asked Mrs. Montgomery.
“I have made none as yet,” he replied. “But I will see Judge Bigelow,
and have some talk with him. Of course, I can have nothing to say,
adverse to a requirement of rent. Executors are responsible for the
right use of property in their hands, and must see that it produces an
interest, if in a position to pay anything. You do not, of course, wish
to occupy the whole of these grounds. It may be, that the use of the
house, garden, lawn, and appurtenances, may be secured at a moderate
rent. If so, do you wish to remain?”
“I would prefer remaining here, if the rent is within a certain sum.”
“Say three hundred dollars?”
“Yes. If not beyond that sum, I will remain,” replied Mrs. Montgomery.
The interview which Mr. Wallingford held with Judge Bigelow a few hours
afterwards, was not satisfactory. The proposition to let Mrs. Montgomery
and her daughter occupy the house, separate from the extensive grounds,
would not be entertained. It finally came out, that an offer to purchase
had been made by the firm of Floyd, Lawson, Lee, & Co., with a view to
the erection of extensive mills, and that the executors were going
to ask the Court for power to sell, as a handsome sum could now be
obtained. It further came out, that in case this power was granted,
Mr. Dewey was to reside in S----, to superintend the erection of these
mills, and afterwards to join Squire Floyd in the management of both
establishments--a consolidation of interests between the mercantile and
manufacturing branches being about to take place. The old mansion was
to undergo a thorough revision, and become the domicile of the resident
partner.
With these plans in view, the executors insisted upon the removal of
Mrs. Montgomery; and notice as to time was given, which included three
months. Formal application was made to the Court having power in the
case, for authority to sell and re-invest. The reasons for so doing were
set forth in detail, and involved plausible arguments in favor of the
heirs whenever they should be found.
Mr. Wallingford had personal reasons for not wishing to oppose this
application. The executors had been his friends from boyhood. Especially
towards Judge Bigelow did he entertain sentiments of deep gratitude
for his many favors and kindnesses. But his duty, as counsel to Mrs.
Montgomery, left him no alternative. She was heir prospective to this
property, and he did not believe that the plans in view were best for
her interests, in case no other heir was found. So, he went before the
Court, and opposed the prayer of the executors. In doing so, he gained
their ill-will, but did not succeed in preventing a decree authorizing a
sale of the property. Dewey was present, a deeply interested listener to
the arguments that were advanced on both sides. After the decision, as
Wallingford was passing from the court-room, Dewey, who stood near the
door, talking with a gentleman, said, loud enough for the young lawyer
to hear him.
“The hound! He got on the wrong scent that time!”
A feeling of indignation stirred in Wallingford's bosom; but he
repressed the bitter feeling, and moved on without giving any intimation
that the offensive remark had reached him.
As soon as this decree, authorizing a sale of the property, was made,
Mrs. Montgomery began to make preparation for removal. At first she
seemed inclined to favor a return to England; but after repeated
conferences with Mr. Wallingford, she finally concluded to remain in
this country.
Nearly three years had woven their many colored web of events, since
Mrs. Montgomery had dropped down suddenly among us like a being
from cloudland. The friendly relation established between us in the
beginning, had continued, growing more and more intimate. My good
Constance found in her a woman after her own heart.
“The days I spend at the Allen House,” she would often say to me, “are
days to be remembered. I meet with no one who lives in so pure and
tranquil an atmosphere as Mrs. Montgomery. An hour with her lifts me
above the petty cares and selfish struggles of this life, and fills my
mind with longings after those higher things into which all must rise
before that peace comes to the soul which passeth all understanding.
I return home from these interviews, happier in mind, and stronger for
life's duties. I do not know any term that so clearly expresses my idea
of this lady, as Christian philosopher.”
Occasionally Mrs. Montgomery would pay us a visit; and these also were
times treasured up in my wife's remembrance. I always observed a certain
elevation of feeling, a calmer spirit, and a more loving sphere about
her after one of these pleasant seasons.
The daughter came very often. Our children loved her almost as much as
they did their mother, and she seemed as happy with them, as if they
were her own flesh and blood. Agnes, our oldest, now in her eighth year,
almost lived at the Allen House. Blanche never came without taking her
home with her, and often kept her for two or three days at a time.
Blanche had developed into a young woman of almost queenly beauty; yet
her manners retained the easy grace and truthfulness of a child. She did
not seem conscious of her remarkable personal attractions, nor of the
admiration her presence always extorted. No one could meet her, as
a stranger, without feeling that she stood removed from ordinary
contact--a being of superior mould with whom familiarity was
presumption.
The companion of such a mother, who had with tender solicitude, from
childhood upwards, guarded all the avenues of her mind, lest false
principles or false views of things should find entrance; and as
carefully selected her mental food, in order that there might be health
of mind as well as health of body--it was not surprising to find about
her a solidity and strength of character, that showed itself beneath the
sweet grace of her external life, whenever occasion for their exhibition
arose. From her mother she had imbibed a deep religious sentiment; but
this did not manifest itself so much in language, as in dutiful acts.
I had often occasion to notice, how, almost instinctively, she referred
all things to a superintending Providence; and looked into the future,
veiled as it is to all eyes, with a confidence that every thing would
come out right, beautiful to contemplate. What she meant by right,
was something more than is usually included in the words; for she had
learned from her wise teacher, that God's providence disposes the things
of this world for every individual in a way that serves best his eternal
interests; therefore, what was best in this sense, could not fail to be
right.
To our deep regret, Mrs. Montgomery decided to change the place of her
residence from S----to Boston. All the reasons that led her to this
decision, I was not able to discover. Her life at the Allen House had
been quite secluded. She had been courteous to all the people with whom
she was brought into any degree of contact, and had reciprocated all
friendly visits; but there was a certain distance between her and them,
that it seemed impossible for either to pass over. One of my inferences
was, that, in removing from the retired old mansion, and taking a modern
house, she would stand out more prominently before all eyes than was
agreeable to her. Be this as it may, she was in earnest about removing
to Boston.
I happened to be present when the announcement of this purposed removal
was made to Mr. Wallingford. He had called in, during one of my visits
to Mrs. Montgomery, for the transaction of some business.
“To Boston?” he said, in a tone of surprise, and, I thought,
disappointment. At the same time I saw his eyes turned towards Blanche.
“Yes; I think it will be best,” she replied. “If I have any interests
here, I feel that they are safe in your hands, Mr. Wallingford.”
She leaned a little towards him, and I thought her voice had in it a
softer tone than usual. Her eyes looked steadily into his face.
“I will do all that is right, madam.” He spoke a little lower than
usual.
“And the right is always the best in any case, Mr. Wallingford,” said
she with feeling.
“How soon do you think of removing?” the young man inquired.
“In three or four weeks.”
“So soon.”
Again I noticed that his eyes wandered towards Blanche, who sat close to
her mother, with her face bent down and turned partly away.
“There is no reason why we should linger in S----, after all things are
ready for removal. It would have suited my feelings and habits of mind
to have remained here; but as this cannot be, I prefer going to Boston
on more than one account.”
“You will leave behind you many sincere friends,” said Wallingford.
There was more feeling in his voice than usually showed itself; and I
again observed that Mrs. Montgomery, in responding to the remark, fixed
her eyes upon him steadily, and with, I thought, a look of more than
usual interest.
The few weeks of preparation glided swiftly away, and then we parted
from friends who had won their way into our own hearts; and whose memory
would ever be to us like the fragrance of holy incense. I learned from
Mrs. Montgomery, before she left us, during a more confidential talk
than usual, that her income was comparatively small, and that the
chief part of this, a pension from Government in acknowledgment of her
husband's services, would cease at her death. There was a momentary
failure in her voice as she said this, and her eyes turned with the
instinct of love towards Blanche.
At her desire, Mr. Wallingford attended them to Boston, and remained
away for three or four days. He then returned to S----, bringing with
him kind words from the absent ones. The old routine of life went on
again, each of us taking up the daily duty; yet I think there was not
one of the favored few who had known Mrs. Montgomery and her daughter
intimately, that was not stronger to do right in every trial for the
memory of these true-hearted strangers--no, friends!