Youd never dream such a thing! what will come to pass! An unthought-of possibility! She went on crescendo. My dear Mrs. Waltham, Mr. Mutimer has left no will!
It was as if an electric shock had passed from the tips of her fingers into her hearers frame. Mrs. Waltham paled.
That cannot be true! she whispered, incapable of utterance above breath.
Oh, but theres not a doubt of it! Knowing that the news would be particularly unpalatable to Mrs. Waltham, she proceeded to dwell upon it with dancing eyes. Search has been going on since the day of the death: not a corner that hasnt been rummaged, not a drawer that hasnt been turned out, not a book in the library that hasnt been shaken, not a wall that hasnt been examined for secret doors! Mr. Mutimer has died intestate!
The other lady was mute.
And shall I tell you how it came about? Two days before his death, he had his will from Mr. Yottle, saying he wanted to make changeprobably to execute a new will altogether. My dear, he destroyed it, and death surprised him before he could make another.
He wished to make changes?
Ah! Mrs. Mewling drew out the exclamation, shaking her raised finger, pursing her lips. And of that, too, I can tell you the reason. Mr. Mutimer was anything but pleased with young Eldon. That young man, let me tell you, has been conducting himselfoh, shockingly! Now you wouldnt dream of repeating this?
Certainly not.
It seems that news came not so very long ago of a certain actress, singer,something of the kind, you understand? Friends thought it their dutyrightly, of course,to inform Mr. Mutimer. I cant say exactly who did it; but we know that Hubert Eldon is not regarded affectionately by a good many people. My dear, he has been out of England for more than a month, livingoh, such extravagance! And the moral question, too? You knowthose women! Someone, they say, of European reputation; of course no names are breathed. For my part, I cant say I am surprised. Young men, you know; and particularly young men of that kind! Well, it has cost him a pretty penny; hell remember it as long as he lives.
Then the property will go
Yes, to the working people in London; the roughest of the rough, they say! What will happen? It will be impossible for us to live here if they come and settle at the Manor. The neighbourhood will be intolerable. Think of the rag-tag-and-bobtail they will bring with them!
But Hubert! ejaculated Mrs. Waltham, whom this vision of barbaric onset affected little in the crashing together of a great airy castle.
Well, my dear, after all he still has more to depend upon than many we could instance. Probably he will take to the law,that is, if he ever returns to England.
He is at the Manor, said Mrs. Waltham, with none of the pleasure it would ordinarily have given her to be first with an item of news. He came this afternoon.
He did! Who has seen him?
Alfred and Adela passed him on the road. He was in a cab.
I feel for his poor mother. What a meeting it will be! But then we must remember that they had no actual claim on the inheritance. Of course it will be a most grievous disappointment, but what is life made of? Im afraid some people will be anything but grieved. We must confess that Hubert has not been exactly popular; and I rather wonder at it; Im sure he might have been if he had liked. Just a little tootoo self-conscious, dont you think? Of course it was quite a mistake, but people had an idea that he presumed on wealth which was not his own. Well, well, we quiet folk look on, dont we? Its rather like a play.
Presently Mrs. Mewling leaned forward yet more confidentially.
My dear, you wont be offended? You dont mind a question? There wasnt anything definite?Adela, I mean.
Nothing, nothing whatever! Mrs. Waltham asserted with vigour.
Ha! Mrs. Mewling sighed deeply. How relieved I am! I did so fear!
Nothing whatever, the other lady repeated.
Thank goodness! Then there is no need to breathe a word of those shocking matters. But they do get abroad so!
A reflection Mrs. Mewling was justified in making.
CHAPTER II
The cab which had passed Adela and her brother at a short distance from Wanley brought faces to the windows or door of almost every house as it rolled through the village street. The direction in which it was going, the trunk on the roof, the certainty that it had come from Agworth station, suggested to everyone that young Eldon sat within. The occupant had, however, put up both windows just before entering the village, and sight of him was not obtained. Wanley had abundant matter for gossip that evening. Huberts return, giving a keener edge to the mystery of his so long delay, would alone have sufficed to wagging tongues; hut, in addition, Mrs. Mewling was on the warpath, and the intelligence she spread was of a kind to run like wildfire.
The approach to the Manor was a carriage-road, obliquely ascending the bill from a point some quarter of a mile beyond the cottages which once housed Belwicks abbots. Of the house scarcely a glimpse could be caught till you were well within the gates, so thickly was it embosomed in trees. This afternoon it wore a cheerless face; most of the blinds were still down, and the dwelling might have been unoccupied, for any sign of human activity that the eye could catch. There was no porch at the main entrance, and the heavy nail-studded door greeted a visitor somewhat sombrely. On the front of a gable stood the words Nisi Dominus.
The vehicle drew up, and there descended a young man of pale countenance, his attire indicating long and hasty travel. He pulled vigorously at the end of a hanging bell-chain, and the door was immediately opened by a man-servant in black. Hubert, for he it was, pointed to his trunk, and, whilst it was being carried into the house, took some loose coin from his pocket. He handed the driver a sovereign.
I have no change, sir, said the man, after examining the coin. But Hubert had already turned away; he merely waved his hand, and entered the house. For a drive of two miles, the cabman held himself tolerably paid.
The hall was dusky, and seemed in need of fresh air. Hubert threw off his hat, gloves, and overcoat; then for the first time spoke to the servant, who stood in an attitude of expectancy.
Mrs. Eldon is at home?
At home, sir, but very unwell. She desires me to say that she fears she may not be able to see you this evening.
Is there a fire anywhere?
Only in the library, sir.
I will dine there. And let a fire be lit in my bedroom.
Yes, sir. Will you dine at once, sir?
In an hour. Something light; I dont care what it is.
Shall the fire be lit in your bedroom at once, sir?
At once, and a hot bath prepared. Come to the library and tell me when it is ready.
The servant silently departed. Hubert walked across the hall, giving a glance here and there, and entered the library. Nothing had been altered here since his fathers, nay, since his grandfathers time. That grandfatherhis name Huberthad combined strong intellectual tendencies with the extravagant tastes which gave his already tottering house the decisive push. The large collection of superbly-bound books which this room contained were nearly all of his purchasing, for prior to his time the Eldons had not been wont to concern themselves with things of the mind. Hubert, after walking to the window and looking out for a moment on the side lawn, pushed a small couch near to the fireplace, and threw himself down at full length, his hands beneath his head. In a moment his position seemed to have become uneasy; he turned upon his side, uttering an exclamation as if of pain. A minute or two and again he moved, this time with more evident impatience. The next thing he did was to rise, step to the bell, and ring it violently.
The same servant appeared.
Isnt the bath ready? Hubert asked. His former mode of speaking had been brief and decided; he was now almost imperious.
I believe it will be in a moment, sir, was the reply, marked, perhaps, by just a little failure in the complete subservience expected.
Hubert looked at the man for an instant with contracted brows, but merely saidTell them to be quick.
The man returned in less than three minutes with a satisfactory announcement, and Eldon went upstairs to refresh himself.
Two hours later he had dined, with obvious lack of appetite, and was deriving but slight satisfaction from a cigar, when the servant entered with a message from Mrs. Eldon: she desired to see her son.
Hubert threw his cigar aside, and made a gesture expressing his wish to be led to his mothers room. The man conducted him to the landing at the head of the first flight of stairs; there a female servant was waiting, who, after a respectful movement, led the way to a door at a few yards distance. She opened it and drew back. Hubert passed into the room.
It was furnished in a very old-fashioned styleheavily, richly, and with ornaments seemingly procured rather as evidences of wealth than of taste; successive Mrs. Eldons had used it as a boudoir. The present lady of that name sat in a great chair near the fire. Though not yet fifty, she looked at least ten years older; her hair had streaks of white, and her thin delicate features were much lined and wasted. It would not be enough to say that she had evidently once been beautiful, for in truth she was so still, with a spiritual beauty of a very rare type. Just now her face was set in a sternness which did not seem an expression natural to it; the fine lips were much more akin to smiling sweetness, and the brows accepted with repugnance anything but the stamp of thoughtful charity.
After the first glance at Hubert she dropped her eyes. He, stepping quickly across the floor, put his lips to her cheek; she did not move her head, nor raise her hand to take his.
Will you sit there, Hubert? she said, pointing to a chair which was placed opposite hers. The resemblance between her present mode of indicating a wish and her sons way of speaking to the servant below was very striking; even the quality of their voices had much in common, for Huberts was rather high-pitched. In face, however, the young man did not strongly evidence their relation to each other: he was not handsome, and had straight low brows, which made his aspect at first forbidding.
Why have you not come to me before this? Mrs. Eldon asked when her son had seated himself, with his eyes turned upon the fire.
I was unable to, mother. I have been ill.
She cast a glance at him. There was no doubting the truth of what he said; at this moment he looked feeble and pain-worn.
Where did your illness come upon you? she asked, her tone unsoftened.
In Germany. I started only a few hours after receiving the letter in which you told me of the death.
My other letters you paid no heed to?
I could not reply to them.
He spoke after hesitation, but firmly, as one does who has something to brave out.
It would have been better for you if you had been able, Hubert. Your refusal has best you dear.
He looked up inquiringly.
Mr. Mutimer, his mother continued, a tremor in her voice, destroyed his will a day or two before he died.
Hubert said nothing. His fingers, looked together before him, twitched a little; his face gave no sign.
Had you come to me at once, Mrs. Eldon pursued, had you listened to my entreaties, to my commandsher voice rang right queenlythis would not have happened. Mr. Mutimer behaved as generously as he always has. As soon as there came to him certain news of you, he told me everything. I refused to believe what people were saying, and he too wished to do so. He would not write to you himself; there was one all sufficient test, he held, and that was a summons from your mother. It was a test of your honour, Hubertand you failed under it.
He made no answer.
You received my letters? she went on to ask. I heard you had gone from England, and could only hope your letters would be forwarded. Did you get them?
With the delay of only a day or two.
And deliberately you put me aside?
I did.
She looked at him now for several moments. Her eyes grew moist. Then she resumed, in a lower voice
I said nothing of what was at stake, though I knew. Mr. Mutimer was perfectly open with me. I have trusted him implicitly, he said, because I believe him as staunch and true as his brother. I make no allowances for what are called young mans follies: he must be above anything of that kind. If he is notwell, I have been mistaken in him, and I cant deal with him as I wish to do. You know what he was, Hubert, and you can imagine him speaking those words. We waited. The bad news was confirmed, and from you there came nothing. I would not hint at the loss you were incurring; of my own purpose I should have refrained from doing so, and Mr. Mutimer forbade me to appeal to anything but your better self. If you would not come to me because I wished it, I could not involve you and myself in shame by seeing you yield to sordid motives.
Hubert raised his head. A choking voice kept him silent for a moment only.
Mother, the loss is nothing to you; you are above regrets of that kind; and for myself, I am almost glad to have lost it.
In very truth, answered the mother, I care little about the wealth you might have possessed. What I do care for is the loss of all the hopes I had built upon you. I thought you honour itself; I thought you high-minded. Young as you are, I let you go from me without a fear. Hubert, I would have staked my life that no shadow of disgrace would ever fall upon your head! You have taken from me the last comfort of my age.
He uttered words she could not catch.
The purity of your soul was precious to me, she continued, her accents struggling against weakness; I thought I had seen in you a love of that chastity without which a man is nothing; and I ever did my best to keep your eyes upon a noble ideal of womanhood. You have fallen. The simpler duty, the point of every-day honour, I could not suppose that you would fail in. From the day when you came of age, when Mr. Mutimer spoke to you, saying that in every respect you would be as his son, and you, for your part, accepted what he offered, you owed it to him to respect the lightest of his reasonable wishes. The wish which was supreme in him you have utterly disregarded. Is it that you failed to understand him? I have thought of late of a way you had now and then when you spoke to me about him; it has occurred to me that perhaps you did him less than justice. Regard his position and mine, and tell me whether you think he could have become so much to us if he had not been a gentleman in the highest sense of the word. When Godfrey first of all brought me that proposal from him that we should still remain in this house, it seemed to me the most impossible thing. You know what it was that induced me to assent, and what led to his becoming so intimate with us. Since then it has been hard for me to remember that he was not one of our family. His weak points it was not difficult to discover; but I fear you did not understand what was noblest in his character. Uprightness, clean-heartedness, good faiththese things he prized before everything. In you, in one of your birth, he looked to find them in perfection. Hubert, I stood shamed before him.
The young man breathed hard, as if in physical pain. His eyes were fixed in a wide absent gaze. Mrs. Eldon had lost all the severity of her face; the profound sorrow of a pure and noble nature was alone to be read there now.