CHAPTER XIII.
STANLEY CALLS ON HIS SOLICITORS.
HAVING made such preparations overnight as he deemed necessary for the journey, and taken leave of his mother, Stanley started next morning by an early train for London.
His parting with Mildred had not been very satisfactory, and he blamed himself for the haste with which he had quitted Beaucliffe; but he trusted all would be forgotten before his return.
“I never knew her so peremptory,” he thought; “and certainly she never before threatened me with her displeasure. However, she could not have meant it seriously, and a reconciliation will be easily effected. I won’t make myself uneasy.”
But in spite of this resolution the quarrel haunted him during the whole of the journey.
On arriving in town he left his luggage at the station, and taking a hansom cab to the Temple proceeded to the offices of Messrs. Dawson and Davies, in Harecourt.
On giving his name to a clerk he was shown into a room evidently devoted to legal business, where he found Mr. Dawson — a thin, middle-aged man, with grey hair and sharp features.
On hearing his name, the solicitor immediately arose, and shaking hands with him cordially, said, “Pray sit down, sir, and let us talk matters over.”
Stanley took the chair offered him.
“Let me ask you, in the first place, Mr. Dawson,” he said, “where my uncle is to be buried?”
“Sir Thomas is already buried in the cemetery at Dieppe,” replied Mr. Dawson. “On receiving intelligence of his death, Mr. Davies, my partner, immediately started for Dieppe, and on arriving there found that the Comte de Clairvaux — Sir Thomas’s most intimate friend, and his second in the unfortunate affair — had already made arrangements for his friend’s interment in the place I have mentioned. The Comte, it appeared, had been influenced by a lady to whom Sir Thomas was greatly attached, and who affirmed that it was the deceased baronet’s own wish that if his death occurred while he was in Dieppe, he should be buried in the Protestant burial ground, and he had even chosen a spot for his grave. Not doubting for a moment the truth of what was told him, Mr. Davies allowed the funeral to take place. The ceremony was performed in the quietest manner possible, and when all was over, it was understood that the poor lady, who assisted at it, meant to hide herself for ever in a religious retreat.”
“Your narration interests me deeply, sir,” replied Stanley, much moved. “This unhappy lady seems to have been very much attached to my unfortunate uncle.”
“She was devotedly attached to him, sir, as I myself have heard from Sir Thomas’s own lips,” replied Mr. Dawson. “Luckily for you she is very well off; or your uncle would have left her a great part of his property. He told me so himself.”
“I may esteem myself singularly fortunate in all respects,” said Stanley. “At one time I had no reason to expect that Sir Thomas would remember me in any way.”
“He only made his will when he was last in London — a short time ago,” replied Mr. Dawson. “But I ought to tell you that he then expressed himself in very kindly terms concerning your mother and yourself. If he has hitherto neglected you both, he has now made ample amends. At this moment, I cannot exactly say what you will inherit from him, but I believe it will not be far from three thousand a year.”
Stanley could hardly repress his satisfaction.
“As you are aware,” pursued Mr. Dawson, “he had large landed property in Cheshire, from which the bulk of his income was derived. All this is now yours. Mr. Davies and myself are appointed his executors, and will see that all his directions are duly fulfilled.”
“I could not be in better hands, sir,” remarked Stanley. “Is it necessary, think you, that I should go over to Dieppe?”
“By no means,” rejoined Mr. Dawson. “My partner will do all that is required. I expect he will return either to-morrow or next day, and then you will know exactly what has occurred. But I am certain nothing will be left undone. No doubt you will remain in town some little time?”
“I must needs do so,” replied Stanley. “This matter has come upon me so suddenly that I have not yet had time to provide myself with mourning. I mean to put up at the York Hotel, Albemarle-street.”
“Very good,” said Mr. Dawson, making a note of the address. “Poor Lady Starkey called upon us yesterday to make inquiries respecting her late husband, and expressed a great desire to see you. She wishes to explain to you that she did her utmost to prevent this unfortunate duel.”
“I will make a point of calling upon her,” replied Stanley.
“You will find her in Berkeley Square,” said Mr, Dawson.
After some further conversation with the solicitor, on matters of business, Stanley took leave, promising to call again on the morrow.
He then drove to the railway station, where he gave certain directions respecting his luggage; after which he proceeded to a fashionable tailor’s in Bond-street and ordered such mourning as he required to be got ready without delay; and, lastly, he secured charming rooms at the York Hotel, Albemarle-street, where he ordered dinner,
CHAPTER XIV.
ROSE HYLTON.
BEFORE noon next day, the suit of sables, which Stanley had ordered, was sent him by the expeditious tailor, and attired in these sombre habiliments, and with a deep band round his hat, the young man went to call upon Lady Starkey in Berkeley Square.
All the servants he beheld were in black, and upon being ushered into her ladyship’s presence, he found her in the deepest mourning.
In her case, the garb of widowhood did not appear unbecoming.
She was alone at the time in her boudoir, and received him with great kindness; but on attempting to address him, she could not restrain her grief.
Stanley endeavoured to express his sympathy, but he likewise was much moved.
“It is very good of you to come to see me,” she said. “I received a note last evening from Mr. Dawson, telling me I might expect you, and it gave me much satisfaction. I am sure you will believe that I could not have been instrumental in causing this deplorable duel. Though I had long lost my husband’s affection, and though he had deeply injured me, I never ceased to love him, and could not have avenged myself in this way.”
And she again covered her face, and sobbed aloud.
“Your ladyship need not give me that assurance,” said Stanley.
Recovering, after a few moments, she continued —
“Intelligence of the fatal event was brought me by Captain Darcy himself. My mind foreboded ill when I beheld him. But on learning the dreadful truth, I loaded him with reproaches, and he left me — nor have I seen him since. The anguish caused me by the news was terrible. I could only think of my husband as he had once been — loving and devoted, — and I had now lost him for ever! But by degrees I became calmer, and though I feel I shall never be happy again, yet I can bear my affliction.”
“Possessing such a wife, I cannot understand how Sir Thomas could leave you,” said Stanley.
“I loved him too well,” replied her ladyship, in tones that penetrated Stanley’s heart. “Had I loved him less, he might have loved me more.”
“I will not attempt to offer you consolation,” he said; “but I feel for you most deeply.”
A brief silence ensued, which was broken by her ladyship.
“I wish to give you my assurance,” she said, in accents that proclaimed her sincerity, “that I am perfectly satisfied with what Sir Thomas has done for yourself and your mother. I confess I did not expect it — but it was well done — very well done. I trust you will become a worthy representative of the family.”
“I will try to be so,” replied Stanley earnestly.
“You will always find a warm friend in me,” continued her ladyship. “And had your mother not been left you, I would have endeavoured to supply her place.”
“I know not how to express my gratitude to your ladyship,” said Stanley, with much emotion.
At this moment, the door opened, and
a remarkably pretty girl, apparently about nineteen, entered the room.
A slight graceful figure, lovely features, blue eyes, and light tresses constituted her charms.
“My niece, Rose Hylton,” said Lady Starkey, presenting her to Stanley, who had risen on her appearance. “I forgot to mention that she is staying with me.”
“I knew Mr. Stanley Brereton was with you, aunt,” said the young lady; “but I ventured to come in. Recent circumstances have made me take a strong interest in you,” she added to Stanley.
“You are very kind,” he replied. “I should have been sorry to lose the pleasure of seeing you. Have you been long in town, may I venture to ask?”
“I only arrived yesterday,” she replied. “My aunt sent for me, and I came up from Sussex at once.”
“I want a companion,” said her ladyship, “and dear Rose suits me better than any one else.”
“I can easily imagine that,” said Stanley. “I hope she will stay with you now she is come.”
“I shall not part with her in a hurry,” said Lady Starkey. “Unluckily, I cannot go out just now, and am unable to offer her any amusement.”
“You know my quiet tastes, dearest aunt,” observed Rose. “I don’t care for parties. A drive in the Park is all I desire — and that I can have.”
“Yes, I can promise you a daily drive,” said her ladyship. “And perhaps we may sometimes meet Mr. Stanley Brereton.”
“I hope so,” observed Rose. “I shall look out for him.”
“Then you must look out for me among the pedestrians,” said Stanley; “for I have neither carriage nor horses at present.”
“But you will soon have both, I make no doubt,” said Lady Starkey.
“Possibly,” he rejoined, “but I don’t mean to be in a hurry.”
“Quite right,” said Rose. “Papa always says you are sure to find what you want, if you wait for it.”
“Do you ride much?” inquired Stanley.
“Not so much as I should like,” she replied, “and never to hounds.”
“There you differ from a young lady of my acquaintance,” said Stanley. “She frequently heads the field, and sometimes comes in at the death. Perhaps your ladyship may know her — Miss Warburton, of Beaucliffe.”
“I’ve heard of her,” replied Lady Starkey. “But I don’t wish Rose to resemble her.”
“I’ve no desire to excel as an equestrian,” said the young lady.
“Hunting, I think, leads to a great deal of mischief among girls,” said Lady Starkey; “and gives them bold and masculine manners. They cannot constantly associate with this class of men, without acquiring their habits.”
“I must confess there is some truth in your ladyship’s observations,” said Stanley.
“I hope you will never hunt, Rose,” remarked Lady Starkey to her niece.
“After your strongly expressed disapproval, you may depend upon it, I never will, dear aunt,” replied Rose.
Here the footman entered and announced Sir John Lambert and Captain Darcy.
On hearing the latter name Stanley was about to depart instantly, but Lady Starkey stopped him.
“Don’t go,” she said. “I particularly wish you to remain.”
Next moment the two gentlemen were ushered into the room.
Sir John stepped forward, and shook hands with her ladyship, but Captain Darcy contented himself with bowing gravely.
Both noticed Stanley. Neither knew him, but they guessed who he was.
“I hope your ladyship has in some degree recovered from the shock you have experienced,” said Sir John.
Lady Starkey made a suitable reply.
“I hope your ladyship can now tolerate my presence,” said Darcy. “Command me, and I will instantly depart.”
Lady Starkey motioned him to stay.
“It is now too late to remedy this unhappy affair,” she said, addressing Darcy. “So I will not reproach you further.”
“Clearly understand that I did not desire that the encounter should have a fatal termination,” he replied. “A slight hurt would have satisfied me.”
“But you acted contrary to my wishes in seeking a meeting,” said her ladyship.
“My own honour was concerned,” he rejoined. “I could not allow you to be thus wronged.”
“No more of this, or I shall enjoin your instant departure,” said Lady Starkey.
“I ought to tell you that Mr. Stanley Brereton is the last person who can complain of what I have done,” said Darcy, significantly.
“My uncle has left me a legacy of vengeance, and I shall hot neglect it,” said Stanley, sternly.
“This is neither the time, nor the place, for talk like this, gentlemen,” interposed Sir John Lambert. “But I must say that Mr. Stanley Brereton very properly resents the affront offered him.”
“Then I am very sorry for what I have said,” rejoined Darcy, “and sincerely beg Mr. Brereton’s pardon. I really meant no offence, sir,” he added to Stanley.
“That I can readily understand, Captain Darcy,” said Stanley; “and I therefore accept your proffered hand. Let us forget the matter.”
“Agreed,” said Darcy.
Sir John Lambert seemed much relieved that an end had been put to the quarrel — but his anxiety had been nothing to that felt by Lady Starkey, who blamed herself greatly for detaining Stanley.
Rose, who had repressed her feelings during the scene, and did not utter a word, kept near her aunt.
Very soon afterwards, Darcy took his departure, much to her ladyship’s relief.
Sir John did not accompany him, but remained to set himself straight.
“Darcy is a strange, impracticable fellow,” he said. “He came here to sue for your ladyship’s forgiveness, and he has given fresh offence. I am sure he had no desire whatever to quarrel with Mr. Stanley Brereton, and yet he contrived to do so.”
“As far as I am concerned, I shall think no more about the occurrence,” said Stanley. “But I owe something to my uncle’s memory, and I don’t care to associate with the man by whose hand my benefactor has fallen. I must therefore decline to meet Captain Darcy again.”
“I don’t wonder at your decision,” said Lady Starkey. “I hoped the meeting would have had a different result, but it cannot be helped.”
“I trust I have given you no offence, Mr. Brereton,” said Sir John.
“I am much pleased to have met you,” replied the other.
“And I hope you will often meet Sir John again here,” said her ladyship. “He is one of my oldest and best friends.”
“It will always be a pleasure to me to meet him,” replied Stanley.
He then proposed to depart, and as he took leave, Lady Starkey expressed a hope that he would come to her next day.
“Pray do!” added Rose, with a smile that was quite irresistible.
“We have a great deal more to talk about,” said her ladyship.
Rose looked as if she thought so too, but did not give utterance to her sentiments.
Stanley gladly promised to come, and made his bow.
“A very nice young man, and deserves his good fortune,” observed Sir John.
“I have taken a great liking to him,” said Lady Starkey; “and am really much pleased that Sir Thomas made him his heir,”
“Your ladyship displays great liberality,” said the old baronet.
“Pray come to luncheon to-morrow, Sir John, and improve your acquaintance with him,” said Lady Starkey.
CHAPTER XV.
STANLEY RECEIVES A LETTER FROM HIS MOTHER.
ON coming down to breakfast next morning, Stanley found a letter from his mother. It had been sent by the solicitors, to whose care it was addressed.
Strange to say there was a good deal in it about Lady Starkey, and Mrs. Brereton expressed a hope that her son would not fail to call in Berkeley Square.
“I particularly wish you to see her ladyship,” she said, “as she might be hurt by any neglect at this moment,
and I should be much grieved if such were the case. As you are well aware, Lady Starkey and I have not met for several years, nor has any correspondence taken place between us during that period, but I have the highest opinion of her. I think she has conducted herself admirably well towards my poor brother, under most trying circumstances. Indeed, I firmly believe very few of her sex could have acted as well as she has done. Possibly she may not be altogether satisfied with the disposition made by Sir Thomas in regard to his property; but I trust, as she herself is so well off, she may be reconciled to the arrangement. At any rate, I beg you will offer her my sincere sympathy under her affliction. With an expression of the warm regard and respect I must always feel for her.”
“I am very glad my mother has written this letter,” thought Stanley. “I’ll take it with me to-day, and read it to her ladyship. I wish they could meet, as I believe they would like each other. Since my interview with her ladyship yesterday, I seem to know her much better than before, and I must be insensible indeed if I did not now appreciate her extraordinary kindness.”
While making these reflections, he had laid down the letter, but now took it up again, and perceived a postscript, which he had not previously noticed.
Thus it ran:— “Lady Talmash and Mildred Warburton rode over here this morning, with the evident intention of looking at the house. They stayed about half-an-hour, and her ladyship, who is a most charming person, made herself very agreeable. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t so much pleased as usual with Mildred. She seemed in an ill humour, and Minshull told me he overheard her say to Lady Talmash that she disliked the old house, and could never make up her mind to live in it. I tell you this, dear boy, because I think you ought to know it.”
“Dislikes the place, does she?” cried Stanley to himself. “I’m glad I know it. She shall never be forced to live there. She must have changed her mind quite suddenly, for she used to like it — at least she led me to believe so. But I can guess the reason of the change, and if she resents a slight matter thus, I had better think no more about her. I’m very glad this quarrel has occurred before I commenced my alterations. I’ll leave the old place as it is, for the present.”
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 794
