Chapter 20

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.