Mr. Scarborough's Family Part 57

He had now returned so that he might see to Mountjoy's departure. "After all, Augustus, I am going down to Tretton," said the elder brother as he folded up his father's letter.

"What argument has the old man used now?" Mountjoy did not think it well to tell his brother the exact nature of the arguments used, and therefore put the letter into his pocket.

"He wishes to say something to me about property," said Mountjoy.

Then some idea of the old squire's scheme fell with a crus.h.i.+ng weight of antic.i.p.ated sorrow on Augustus. In a moment it all occurred to him what his father might do, what injuries he might inflict; and,--saddest of all feelings,--there came the immediate reflection that it had all been rendered possible by his own doings. With the conviction that so much might be left away from him, there came also a farther feeling that, after all, there was a chance that his father had invented the story of his brother's illegitimacy, that Mountjoy was now free from debt, and that Tretton, with all its belongings, might now go back to him. That his father would do it if it were possible he did not doubt. From week to week he had waited impatiently for his father's demise, and had expected little or none of that mental activity which his father had exercised. "What a fool he had been," he said to himself, sitting opposite to Mountjoy, who in the vacancy of the moment had lighted another cigar; "what an a.s.s!" Had he played his cards better, had he comforted and flattered and cosseted the old man, Mountjoy might have gone his own way to the dogs. Now, at the best, Tretton would come to him stripped of everything; and,--at the worst,--no Tretton would come to him at all. "Well, what are you going to do?" he said, roughly.

"I think I shall, probably, go down and just see the governor."

"All your feelings about your mother, then, are blown to the winds?"

"My feelings about your mother are not blown to the winds at all; but to speak of her to you would be wasting breath."

"I hadn't the pleasure of knowing her," said Augustus. "And I am not aware that she did me any great kindness in bringing me into the world.

Do you go to Tretton this afternoon?"

"Probably not."

"Or to-morrow?"

"Possibly to-morrow," said Mountjoy.

"Because I shall find it convenient to have your room."

"To-day, of course, I cannot stir. To-morrow morning I should, at any rate, like to have my breakfast." Here he paused for a reply, but none came from his brother. "I must have some money to go down to Tretton with; I suppose you can lend it me just for the present?"

"Not a s.h.i.+lling," said Augustus, in thorough ill-humor.

"I shall be able to pay you very shortly."

"Not a s.h.i.+lling. The return I have had from you for all that I have done is not of a nature to make me do more."

"If I had ever thought that you had expended a sovereign except for the object of furthering some plot of your own, I should have been grateful.

As it is I do not know that we owe very much to each other." Then he left the room, and, getting into a cab, went away to Lincoln's Inn.

Harry Annesley received Mr. Scarborough's letter down at Buston, and was much surprised by it. He had not spent the winter hitherto very pleasantly. His uncle he had never seen, though he had heard from day to day sundry stories of his wooing. He had soon given up his hunting, feeling himself ashamed, in his present nameless position, to ride Joshua Thoroughbung's horses. He had taken to hard reading, but the hard reading had failed, and he had been given up to the miseries of his position. The hard reading had been continued for a fortnight or three weeks, during which he had, at any rate, respected himself, but in an evil hour he had allowed it to escape from him, and now was again miserable. Then the invitation from Tretton had been received. "I have got a letter; 'tis from Mr. Scarborough of Tretton."

"What does Mr. Scarborough say?"

"He wants me to go down there."

"Do you know Mr. Scarborough? I believe you have altogether quarrelled with his son?"

"Oh yes; I have quarrelled with Augustus, and have had an encounter with Mountjoy not on the most friendly terms. But the father and Mountjoy seem to be reconciled. You can see his letter. I, at any rate, shall go there." To this Mr. Annesley senior had no objection to make.

CHAPTER XL.

VISITORS AT TRETTON.

It so happened that the three visitors who had been asked to Tretton all agreed to go on the same day. There was, indeed, no reason why Harry should delay his visit, and much why the other two should expedite theirs. Mr. Grey knew that the thing, if done at all, should be done at once; and Mountjoy, as he had agreed to accept his father's offer, could not put himself too quickly under the shelter of his father's roof. "You can have twenty pounds," Mr. Grey had said when the subject of the money was mooted. "Will that suffice?" Mountjoy had said that it would suffice amply, and then, returning to his brother's rooms, had waited there with what patience he possessed till he sallied forth to The Continental to get the best dinner which that restaurant could afford him. He was beginning to feel that his life was very sad in London, and to look forward to the glades of Tretton with some antic.i.p.ation of rural delight.

He went down by the same train with Mr. Grey,--"a great grind," as Mountjoy called it, when Mr. Grey proposed a departure at ten o'clock.

Harry followed so as to reach Tretton only in time for dinner. "If I may venture to advise you," said Mr. Grey in the train, "I should do in this matter whatever my father asked me." Hereupon Mountjoy frowned. "He is anxious to make some provision for you."

"I'm not grateful to my father, if you mean that."

"It is hard to say whether you should be grateful. But, from the first, he has done the best he could for you, according to his lights."

"You believe all this about my mother?"

"I do."

"I don't. That's the difference. And I don't think that Augustus believes it."

"The story is undoubtedly true."

"You must excuse me if I will not accept it."

"At any rate, you had parted with your share in the property."

"My share was the whole."

"After your father's death," said Mr. Grey; "and that was gone."

"We needn't discuss the property. What is it that he expects me to do now?"

"Simply to be kind in your manner to him, and to agree to what he says about the personal property. It is his intention, as far as I understand it, to leave you everything."

"He is very kind."

"I think he is."

"Only it would all have been mine if he had not cheated me of my birthright."

"Or Mr. Tyrrwhit's, and Mr. Hart's, and Mr. Spicer's."

"Mr. Tyrrwhit, and Mr. Hart, and Mr. Spicer could not have robbed me of my name. Let them have done what they would with their bonds, I should have been, at any rate, Scarborough of Tretton. My belief is that I need not blush for my mother. He has made it appear that I should do so. I can't forgive him because he gives me the chairs and tables."

"They will be worth thirty thousand pounds," said Mr. Grey.

"I can't forgive him."

The cloud sat very black upon Mountjoy Scarborough's face as he said this, and the blacker it sat the more Mr. Grey liked him. If something could be done to redeem from ruin a young man who so felt about his mother,--who so felt about his mother simply because she had been his mother,--it would be a good thing to do. Augustus had entertained no such feeling. He had said to Mr. Grey, as he had said also to his brother, that "he had not known the lady." When the facts as to the distribution of the property had been made known to him he had cared nothing for the injury done by the story to his mother's name. The story was too true. Mr. Grey knew that it was true; but he could not on that account do other than feel an intense desire to confer some benefit on Mountjoy Scarborough. He put his hand out affectionately and laid it on the other man's knee. "Your father has not long to live, Captain Scarborough."

"I suppose not."