Arthur fell into a brown study over the question, and by the time he had reached home had worked himself into as great a state of perplexity as troubled Brading, although Arthur knew nothing of this beyond what he had heard that evening.
WHAT COULD SHE DO?
ARTHUR was afraid lest his sisters should see that something was troubling him, and took care to greet Molly with a smile and a joke. But he soon found that his younger sister was too much interested in what she was doing to pay much attention to him.
"What is that thing?" he asked, after watching her snip, snip, snip with the scissors as if her life depended upon the completion of her task.
Molly held up her work before him. "This thing is an old dressing-gown of Mamma's that we are going to make into a new one, and save the ten pounds Mamma wanted to spend in buying another. At first Mamma and Annie both said it would never be worth the trouble of turning, but when I unpicked a little bit, and they saw that the French merino looked as good as new on the side next to the lining, where of course it has been kept quite clean, they began to think something might be done with it if I would do all the unpicking."
"Not very interesting work, is it?" asked Arthur.
"It's a bit monotonous, perhaps, but I am impatient to see how it is going to look made-up on a new lining. I have suggested to Annie that we line it with a nice, soft, gray flannelette. It will be soft and cosy for Mamma, and last her all the winter, and won't cost half so much as ever such a cheap silk lining."
"Ah!" sighed Arthur. "That is of great importance to us now."
"Of course it is! But, after all, contriving to make ends meet is not so bad—it makes life interesting and gives us something to think about. I don't know what we should have done if we had not always been busy since we have been here, but as it is we have little time to spare for company."
"Poor Molly, you don't have many callers here now?"
"No, we don't," frankly avowed his sister. "And I have been wondering whether Aunt Mary has found out by any chance that you and I called her 'the dragon' sometimes. Did you know old Hannah had gone to live with her as cook?" she asked suddenly.
"I don't believe it," said Arthur. "Hannah always said she wouldn't go there for a pension."
"She hadn't the chance then, but the grocer told Alice this morning that our old servant had gone to live with Lady Mary because—"
"But she'd never tell 'the dragon' what we said about her?" interrupted Arthur.
"There's no telling what she might do. Hannah liked to have a gossip, and so does Aunt Mary."
"Well, if she has told her, it will be another mark down to my score. What do you call the colour of that thing you are unpicking?" he asked, by way of turning the conversation.
"This dressing-gown is gray. It was trimmed with blue silk and blue ribbons, but of course we shall do it with black now."
"All right! Make it look smart, so that Mamma will be pleased with it. I am going for a stroll now, and if I meet Mr. Andrews, I can tell him we are all trying to live within our income."
In point of fact, Arthur was going out in the hope that he might meet the lawyer. He did not like to go to his house again so soon, it would look as though he must run to him with every trifling tale. But he wanted to know whether there was any foundation for Adrian's story, that his mother could compel them to do her will or leave the town, and he felt it would lift the burden somewhat if he could share it with Mr. Andrews.
He knew the old man often went for a walk in the evening out beyond the town, and so he walked in the same direction, and to his satisfaction, soon met the lawyer returning from his evening stroll.
"Good evening!" said Mr. Andrews. "I was just thinking about you. How are you getting on at Brading's?"
"Very well indeed, I think. Mr. Brading has agreed to give me forty pounds a year instead of twenty-five!"
"Has he, though? Well, I have always heard that he was a fair-dealing sort of man. And how do you like the work itself?"
"Oh, I am sure to like that, because I am fond of figures and book-keeping and that sort of thing!"
"Then you've no wish to leave, although it is a shop," said Mr. Andrews. "You see, Lady Mary Murray came to me this afternoon and asked if I could not get you something better to do out of the town. In London she seemed to think you would have a much better chance of getting on. What do you say about it?"
"I am not going away to please Lady Mary. Why should I? I am very comfortable at Brading's, and I can help them at home with what I earn. And another thing, I want to stay at home with Molly and Annie. Don't you think I ought to stay here?"
"Certainly I do. It is the only way, so far as I can see, of being able to make sure of a little of the old patrimony being saved for them and you in the future."
"We are all determined to try for that," said Arthur. "My sister is busy turning an old dress into a new one for Mamma. I don't think she ever thought of doing such a thing before."
"No, indeed; but it is never too late to mend, tell the ladies, and if they save a pound, they gain a pound, so that if you all set your shoulders to the wheel in saving and earning what you can, why, I shall hope to pull some of the chestnuts out of the fire for you after all."
"You say Lady Mary came to advise that I should go to London. Has she the power to compel me to go away from this town?"
"Bless the lad, what do you mean by such a question? You haven't been robbing her, I suppose?"
Arthur laughed at the question. "Oh, no!" he said, "but I was never a favourite of my lady's. And I met Adrian as I was coming home this evening, and he said his mother had set her heart upon my going away, and she had the power to crush me and mine if I did not do as she bade me!"
"Tut, tut!" said the old man. "Mr. Adrian has been dreaming."
"Then there is really nothing she could do to interfere with Mamma and the girls if I choose to stay where I am?" said Arthur.
But instead of a prompt amused "Nothing, my lad," which was what Arthur expected to hear, the lawyer was silent for a full minute, and then uttered a prolonged "A—ah!" Then he added quickly, "But she'd never do it, even if the law would allow it."
"Then it is true," said Arthur sadly.
"What? That she can drive you away from the neighbourhood?" asked the old lawyer. "I can say 'No' to that, but what else she can do, I must have time to consider. I am very glad I met you, and that you have been so frank with me over the matter. Now, is there anything else to tell me? If not, I will be getting home, for my housekeeper doesn't like me to keep supper waiting."
"No, thank you!" said Arthur.
And yet if it had not been for the mention of the housekeeper and supper, he would probably have told his friend of the missing letter, and how it had probably added to Lady Mary's vexation, but as it was he did not care to hinder him any longer. Mr. Andrews was a bachelor, who was practically ruled by his housekeeper. He had heard his father laugh many times about this, and how the lawyer dared not keep a meal waiting beyond the time arranged for it to be ready. So he bade his friend good-night and walked on, lest Mr. Andrews should guess he had come out purposely to meet him if he turned back at once.
"I wish I knew what it was, and how it is she can have got this power to annoy us! It's through those horrible debts, I suppose. I wish I had told Andrews I would give up Brading's if he thought it would help the Mater and Molly. I should hate going away from them, of course, but still I'd do it rather than have 'the dragon' worrying them. I wonder what it can be!" he went on.
Lost in this puzzle, he went much farther than he intended out of the town, and was just turning to walk back again when the sound of voices attracted his attention. A few yards farther back, he saw two rough-looking men trying to drag someone up from the ground. He was a much smaller man than either of the roughs, and they did not seem to be handling him very gently.
"What is the matter with him?" said Arthur, as the young fellow fell back on the path.
"That ain't no business of yourn, is it?" demanded one of the fellows. "He's drunk, if you must know, and we're taking of him home."
While the fellow had been speaking, Arthur had stooped to look more closely at the prostrate figure. "Adrian!" he exclaimed the next minute.
"There, get out of this. He ain't none of your belongings," said one of the roughs. "The gent has put hisself in our care, and we ain't going to have him interfered with."
Arthur looked at the follow and his companion, and then at the quiet road, and finally came to the conclusion that discretion was the better form of valour in the present instance. "He's my cousin, and I will go with you to his home," he said quietly.
"I'm blowed if you will," replied the fellow.
"Very well then, I'll stay here until a policeman comes along," said Arthur.
Without any more parley, one of the men struck him a violent blow in the eye that knocked him backwards. Fortunately, he fell on the pavement, and his head came in contact with Adrian's chest, which roused him from his stupor for a minute, and he called out, "Thieves! Robbers! Police! Police!"
Two gentleman passing the end of a side road a few yards on, ran up to see what was the matter.
But by the time they had reached the prostrate Adrian, the men had made off, and Arthur was slowly pulling himself together and wiping the blood from his face which was streaming from his nose.
"This fellow has stolen my watch," said Adrian, still speaking very thickly, and struggling with Arthur as he spoke. It was a dark part of the road, and one gentleman seized Arthur and shook him, while the other tried to raise Adrian and set him on his feet.
But he was still too stupid to understand who had first come to his rescue, and kept on muttering, "He's stolen my watch, he's stolen my watch."
"The fellow who has robbed him I suppose has run away," said Arthur, who still felt dazed and sick from the blow he had received.
"Do you know anything of this gentleman?" asked one sharply.
"Yes, he is my cousin. The son of Lady Mary Murray. Rouse up, Ted, and try to pull yourself together. Where have you been since I left you an hour or two ago?"
The rescuers were plainly puzzled to know what to make of the affair. Adrian had sunk back on the pavement and seemed disposed to sleep there for the night.
"If I could get a cab, I would take him home at once," said Arthur, looking up and down the road in the hope of finding a returning vehicle on its way back to the town.
"We are going on to the town; shall we send one for you?" asked one gentleman, assured now that Arthur's story was the true one, and this was confirmed when he replied, "Yes, and if you should meet a policeman, ask him to come on here to us at once."
One gentleman, however, kindly volunteered to stay with the lads until either cab or policeman arrived, and Arthur was very glad to accept the offer, for he was not at all sure that the fellows who had attacked him were not lurking somewhere in the neighbourhood, ready to renew their attempt to rifle Adrian's pockets. For they could see now that one had been turned inside out, and although Arthur knew that his cousin would not be likely to have much money about him, they would not think that a young fellow who carried a valuable gold watch was likely to be without a shilling in his pocket.
They did not have to wait long, however, before a cab arrived. Then between them they lifted Adrian into it, and Arthur took his place beside him, and told the cabman where to drive them. It was a long distance from where they had been picked up, quite at the other end of the town, and Arthur had no money to pay the fare, but this would not matter, he thought. Lady Mary would be only too glad to see Adrian home again, though what she might think of the condition he was in, he did not venture to consider. Indeed he could not think; his head ached, and he was glad to sit back in one corner while Adrian lay on the opposite seat and snored.
When at last they reached Lady Mary's home, Hannah came bustling out to answer the loud ring at the bell.
"Two gents inside!" called the cabman, when Hannah appeared.
"Look here, Hannah, Adrian has had a drop too much somewhere," said Arthur, when she came to the side of the cab to see who her visitors might be.
"Bless me, Mr. Arthur, you look as though you had both been having too much!" said Hannah tartly.
"Pooh, I'm all right! Just pay the cabman, will you, and get him to help Ted indoors, for I am not sure that I might not fall down if I tried it. Two roughs have robbed him, I am afraid, but it might have been worse if I had not come across him."
"Worse!" uttered Hannah. "What do you call worse? I wonder what my lady will say when she hears about it!"
"Never mind that to-night, help him in," said Arthur. And then he tried to rouse Adrian, while Hannah went back to fetch the money to pay for the cab. Lady Mary was not at home, but Hannah expected her every minute, and hoped she would arrive before the cab left, and to give her time, she did not hurry, hoping my lady would pay the fare. But when she came back, the cab stood there and the man beside it, while Arthur was trying to rouse Adrian from his sleep.
"I am not going to pay you to take the other back to the town," said Hannah, when the cabman said his fare was five shillings.
"All right! I dare say I can walk." And Arthur got out of the cab, and the man jumped on the box and drove off; when he had helped Hannah to half-drag, half-carry Adrian into the house.
"It will be better for you to walk, Mr. Arthur," Hannah called after him, "and then, if you meet my lady coming along the road, you can tell her all about it."
"If I see her," answered Arthur, but he made up his mind that he would avoid doing anything of the kind, and to make sure of this, he crossed the road.
Whether he would have been able to walk all the way home is doubtful, but fortunately he was not put to the test, for at the corner of the first road the cabman had drawn up his vehicle, and when he saw Arthur coming, he called out: "Hurry up, sir! I am waiting for you. You ain't fit to walk, and you may just as well go in the keb as for me to take it back empty. I've 'driv' your father many a time, sir; money weren't no account to the Murrays in them days, but I hear as how things have altered lately, and so, if you like to consider that this here journey was paid for in them old days, why, so be it."
"Thank you!" said Arthur, with some emotion, for he really was thankful for the man's thoughtful kindness, as he was still feeling weak and unnerved, and he knew his sisters would be alarmed at his long absence from home.
So he got into the cab and curled himself in the corner without a thought of Lady Mary, or what she would think of the affair. He was not long in reaching home, and of course, before he could get to the street door, after wishing the friendly cabman good-night, it was opened by Annie, while Molly's anxious face appeared beside her.
"Oh, Arthur, where have you been?" exclaimed both in a breath.
And then, when they saw his face, Annie screamed out, "What is it? What is the matter?"
"Nothing, only I have had a little adventure. Don't make a noise or you will frighten the Mater. I should like some warm water to bathe my face and wash the blood off. There, it is nothing, only my nose bled as I fell over Adrian."
"Oh, Arthur, have you been with cousin Adrian? I saw him the other day, and he looked as though he had been drinking too much."
"Never mind, he is safe at home now, I have just taken him, and Hannah is there, as the grocer said. Now let that satisfy you for the present, for when I have washed my face, I should like to go to bed."
But Molly was not to be put off with this meagre account of the adventure. She followed him upstairs with a jug of hot water, and would not leave him until he had given her a full account of the whole matter, and then he asked her to go and tell Mamma about it, and ask her to excuse him from going to her room that night.
"I shall be all right in the morning," he said, "and then I will look in before I go to business."
And he went to sleep in the hope and belief that all traces of his adventure would have disappeared by the time he woke up again.
A BLACK EYE
WHEN Arthur got up the next morning he saw, to his dismay and disgust, that in addition to his swollen nose, he had a black eye, as a result of the blow he had received the previous evening.
"Oh, Arthur, whatever will you do?" exclaimed Molly when, in answer to his "come in," she opened the door and saw him at the looking-glass surveying critically his injured face.
"I shouldn't do for a beauty-show just now, should I?" replied the lad, trying to make a joke of the affair.
"Don't you think Alice had better run for the doctor at once?" said Molly.
Arthur laughed. "That's like a girl," he said. "There's nothing to be afraid of, only we are pretty busy just now, and how am I to get up to the counting-house without being seen? That's the problem, Molly. Mr. Brading would not like to see me go in such a sight as this, I know, but Mr. Bristow would be vexed if I stayed away while there is such a rush of work as we have just now."
"But you can't walk through the streets such a sight as that," protested Molly. "You must write a note, and I will take it down to Mr. Brading."
But Arthur shook his head. "That won't do at all. I would rather pay for a cab than do that. I must hold a pocket-handkerchief up to that side of my face, as though I had got the toothache—" And at this point his elder sister came in and at once declared that he could not go out that day.
"I shall send Alice for some lotion, and you must keep your eye bandaged well to-day, and then you may be able to go out to-morrow."
"Send for the lotion by all means, Annie, and I will use it, but I cannot stay at home, we are too busy."
"But you are such a sight!" said his sister. "What will people think, to see you with such a face?"
"People sha'n't see, and to make sure of this, I will take some sandwiches with me for dinner, and then I need not go into another part of the place until I come home, and I hope I shall be all right to-morrow. I wonder how poor old Ted feels this morning!"
"I hope he feels very ill," said Molly viciously, "for it isn't the first time he has been into the town and had too much to drink. Hannah saw him there one night, hardly able to walk, before she left."
"Well, I hope Hannah got him off to bed before his mother got home last night," said Arthur. And then, having arranged his collar and tie to his satisfaction, they all went downstairs. And while Annie sent Alice to the chemist's for some lotion for the injured eye, Molly went to the kitchen and cut the sandwiches for Arthur to take with him. Annie again tried to persuade him to stay at home as she poured out the coffee, wishing at the same time that Arthur had not gone out where he could meet his cousin.
"That's all very well, Annie, but who knows what might have happened to Ted if I had not been at hand to help him against those roughs! They might have knocked him about terribly."
"Well, they have knocked you about, and I don't see why you should have what he deserved. I call it quite disgraceful, and I wonder Aunt Mary allows it."
"Aunt Mary wouldn't allow it, of course, if she could help it. I suppose Ted has fallen in with bad company because he had nothing to do, and Aunt Mary is a regular dragon," concluded Arthur.
By the time breakfast was over, Alice had got back with the lotion, and Molly had cut a good supply of sandwiches. Finding she could not persuade her brother to give up the idea of going out, she arranged the pocket-handkerchief he was to carry as neatly as she could so as to hide the discoloured eye, and Arthur went a few minutes earlier than usual that he might go in at a side-door and so escape observation.
He was just tying up the last letter-bag when Mr. Bristow arrived.
"Good-morning, sir! Do you think one of the messengers might take the letters round for me this morning?"
Mr. Bristow stopped and looked curiously at Arthur. "You have been in the wars," he remarked.
"Yes, sir, but it might have been worse, for my cousin at least. He was set upon by a couple of roughs up the Sycamore Road last night, and I happened to go that way for a walk and came across them. I got a knock-down blow, and might have had another if two gentlemen had not come to our help and then got a cab for me to take Ted home."
"Well, you seem to have fared badly in the encounter," remarked the gentleman. "Of course I will send a messenger round with the letters. If you can manage to do your work, I shall be glad for you to stay, of course."
"Yes, I knew I could not be spared to take holiday just now, and I have brought some sandwiches with me so that no one but you need see me to-day, and I dare say it will be better to-morrow."
And Mr. Bristow having taken charge of the letter-bags, Arthur sat down to his usual work. He did not see Mr. Brading that morning, for he was busy in another part of the house. It was about eleven o'clock that a messenger came to enquire if Mr. Brading was in his own room.
"Is he wanted very specially?" asked Mr. Bristow. "For I know he does not want to be disturbed this morning."
"It's Lady Mary Murray, sir," answered the messenger.
Mr. Bristow pondered for a moment, and then decided that it would be better to send the man to Mr. Brading and let him decide whether he would see the lady or not. And so he told the man where he would probably find him.
Mr. Brading was not best pleased at being summoned to another interview with the lady, remembering what the last had been, but when he reached his downstairs private room, he found her seated and quite disposed to be pleasant, and even cordial.
"Good-morning, Mr. Brading! I am afraid I was a little excited, a little put-out, yesterday morning when I was here, and so I have called again to correct any unfavourable impression upon your mind, and also to tell you that for the present. I shall not take any further stops to trace that missing letter, and, in fact, I feel disposed to let the matter drop, and put up with the loss of the money, if you will help me in another matter."
Mr. Brading bowed. "Of course, as we have never received your ladyship's letter we cannot be held responsible for it," he said cautiously.
"Well, there is very little doubt who had the letter and cashed the cheque," said Lady Mary. "But now I am more anxious on my son's account, and this is what I have come to consult you about. Let me tell you what happened last night not far from your own door. I was returning home from an early dinner-party when I noticed a cab drawn up a little way up that side road just above your house, and almost at the same moment I saw your clerk, who calls himself Arthur Murray, but is a disgrace to the name, come staggering along as though he could not walk straight, and the cab was evidently waiting for him, for the cabman called to him, and he got into the cab and was driven away. Now, you must know whether or not that boy could afford to go driving about like that of an evening!"
"Perhaps not, in the way you put it, my lady," said Mr. Brading; "but I could not charge a lad with being dishonest because he rode out in the evening. There might be a good reason for having the cab there."
"Well, I see I shall have to tell you all my tale, although it involves the reputation of my own dear son, and then, I think, you will see that it is quite reasonable and right that I should demand that Arthur Murray should be discharged from your employment and sent to another town where—"
"But, my lady, I have no such control as that over my employees," interrupted Mr. Brading.
"But I think you will find a way to exercise it when you hear all my story, if only for the sake of your own son, who I hear is a friend of this artful lad's. When I got home last night my cook came to tell me that my son and this Arthur Murray had come home very tipsy, and, as I learned later, my son had lost or been robbed of his watch and chain. Now, when I tell you that this sort of thing has been going on for years and years, that he has constantly been leading my poor boy into mischief of some sort or other, you will understand how anxious I am to remove him from such bad company, and the only way to do it is for one or other of them to leave the neighbourhood. I cannot part with my dear Adrian for any length of time, and so I do hope you will help me to get rid of Arthur, for he is, I can assure you, a dreadful boy! Actually calls me a dragon, I hear from my cook, who lived with them as long as they could keep a decent servant!"
Mr. Brading could scarcely keep from smiling at the lady's last charge, and yet he knew not what to think of the other part of her communication. He paused before replying, to see if the lady had anything else to bring forward to the lad's discredit, and also so to frame his answer as to leave himself uncommitted to any special course of action, and yet not to give any offence to Lady Mary.
He was much more disposed to credit her statements this morning, for she spoke calmly and reasonably, and there was not the heat of temper in what she said. She, on her part, could see that she had made a more favourable impression on Mr. Ending, and was anxious to follow it up by being unusually gracious, and so, after a pause, she said:
"I suppose you have not heard the great news yet, that the railway is really coming at last, and coming by the old route that was supposed to have been given up for a short-cut that would practically have left our town far from its benefits."
"No, indeed, I have not heard a word about it," said Mr. Brading, his interest at once aroused. For if this information was correct, it would alter all the plans he was formulating just now for the building of a new factory which the extension of his business demanded should be set about without delay. "May I ask the source of your information, my lady?" he said.
She laughed and shook her head. "I cannot tell you that, Mr. Brading," she answered. "But you may rely upon it as being quite true."
"Thank you; but you see for years past there have been so many rumours about this railway, that one is shy of giving credence to anything."
"Oh, I can assure you that this is no idle rumour! My brother, Lord Lismore, is on the board of directors. Not that he knows anything about business," she hastened to add, "but he likes to see his name in print; and I have said to him more than once: 'If you can get a railway through our town, I will give you a hundred pounds for the earliest information.' So you see, Mr. Brading, I am making you a valuable present, for I only heard this morning that the route is decidedly fixed at last, and the railway will be here before our sleepy old town can wake up from its astonishment."
Mr. Brading laughed. "I am not much interested in railway stock," he said, "or I might hurry to buy some shares in this. But now to return to the matter under discussion. I must have time to look at the whole matter fairly. I make it a rule, both in the management of my business and the ruling of my life, to do as far as I possibly can to other people as I should wish them, and could fairly expect them, to do if I were in their place and they were in mine. Now you see, in dealing with this lad, I have to put myself in the place of his father, and ask myself what I could reasonably expect if he were my Jack."
"But, Mr. Brading, that notion is absurd! You never could be an idle spendthrift like Charles Murray, living on expectations and credit and—"
"Ah!" suddenly interrupted Mr. Brading. "The expectations were founded on this very railway we have been talking about."
"Very likely," said the lady shortly, rising from her seat as she spoke. "But it can make no difference to them now, for the waste and extravagance that have been going on for years and years have eaten up their land. And so the best thing for Arthur is to go to London, and if you can force him to do this, I am sure it will be a kindness to him if you could only think so."
"Then I may tell the lad that this is your advice, my lady?" said Mr. Brading, looking keenly at her.
"Oh no!" she almost screamed. "You must not mention my name in it. But I may tell you that I shall be compelled to press that matter about Andrews' cheque, if it is not found in a day or two."
"Andrews' cheque?" repeated Mr. Brading in a mystified tone.
"Yes, yes; Andrews the lawyer, I mean. It was the cheque I sent to you. It happened this way. I wanted a vest for my son, and had written the order and said I enclosed a cheque for five pounds, and then I could not find my cheque-book. My son was waiting to post my letter for me, and I remembered that I had this cheque sent by Mr. Andrews, and took it out of my pocket and endorsed it, and put that in to save further bother."
"Did your son see you sign this cheque, my lady?" asked Mr. Brading.
"Very likely he did; he was waiting for the letter, I tell you. But that has nothing to do with it. He posted the letter, he says; and what I want to know is this: Who stole that letter after it came into this house?"
Mr. Brading shook his head. "You have to prove first, my lady, that the letter did come into this house," he said calmly.
"Of course there is a difficulty about that. I shall have to send for Lismore and a London detective, as the post office people say it must have come here, and I don't want to have all that bother. And so I ask you to compromise the matter by discharging this lad without saying a word more than you are obliged as to the reason. Say you have altered your plans, and that you will recommend him to anyone in London."
"What! You want to convince me that the lad is dishonest, and then in the same breath ask me to recommend him to a stranger? No, my lady, I am a plain man, of straightforward dealing, and I could not do that to the poorest errand boy in my employ."
Then began the Irish jig once more. Lady Mary lost control of her temper, and said a good many things she would fain have left unsaid, and at last left Mr. Brading as perplexed as before, both with regard to Arthur and also as to what he had better do in his own business arrangements, if the news concerning the railway was true.
He sat for nearly ten minutes after the lady had left the room. And then he exclaimed:
"I wish I had never seen the woman! What am I to believe? What am I to do? I've a good mind to go and talk to Andrews about it. He knows me, and he knows these Murrays. He may be able to make something of this tangle, for it seems as though a Solomon was needed to unravel it."
If Mr. Brading had been curious, and had watched the movements of Lady Mary, he would have seen that she, too, went to consult a lawyer. But it was not to Mr. Andrews' office that she bent her steps. Her man of business was a Mr. Simmons, a much younger man, and people considered him much more clever. Certainly he was much sharper in his practices. Everybody admitted that.
But to Lady Mary's imperious demand to see Mr. Simmons without delay, the clerk replied: "He is not in just now, my lady."
"When will he be in?" she asked.
"Very soon now, my lady, I think."
"Very well; I am going home now. Tell him to come to me as soon as he comes in."
"Could you leave any instructions, my lady, in case Mr. Simmons should be late?" asked the clerk insinuatingly.
"What do you mean?" demanded Lady Mary, with a look of withering scorn. "I came to consult Mr. Simmons, and if he is not here, he must come to me!"
And saying this, the lady sailed out of the office just in time for Mr. Brading to see her cross the road, as he walked up the street to see Mr. Andrews.
"I am glad I decided to see a lawyer, since her ladyship is going to do the same thing," he muttered half-aloud as he went on.
He was more fortunate than Lady Mary had been with her legal adviser. Mr. Andrews was at his office, and quite ready to listen to Mr. Brading's rather long story, which he told by way of explaining how he came to be possessed of the news about the railway.
Mr. Andrews was a man of few words in general, but when he heard of the lady's visit to his rival, he rubbed his hands, and a smile broke slowly all over his face.
"I am not sure that the news is not worth more than a hundred pounds to me," he said. "Now what is your own particular business, Mr. Brading?" asked the lawyer.
"Well, if this particular railway is coming at last, I had better build my new factory as close to it as I can get the land. I was just planning to buy up those cottages on the opposite side of Kent Street, and place my factory there; but it would be infinitely better to have it close to the railway. You can see that, of course?"
"Certainly I can. It will be better in every way, for it would be a pity to pull down those cottages; and, moreover, I shall be glad to sell you a plot of land near the railway, if it only comes."
"Very well then. Mind, it is a promise that if this comes about, I am to have first chance of the land."
"Yes, you shall, Brading, if only for what you have done for Arthur Murray. The lad has grit, and you have given him a chance of proving it."
But Mr. Brading would not be drawn into discussing this topic.
"I must be going," he said. "I have been hindered a good deal already. Lady Mary and such folk have small idea of the value of time to a busy man, but you have, and I am not going to be tempted to talk to you any longer," he added with a laugh.
Mr. Andrews was a keen observer, and knew Mr. Brading well, and he detected something like a false ring in the laughter of his old friend. "There is a screw loose somewhere if I am not mistaken," he muttered to himself as he went back to his seat, after opening the door for Mr. Brading.
Then he touched the gong on his table, and a young clerk came in from the outer office. "Send Phillips to me," he said.
"Mr. Phillips is just going to his dinner, sir."
"Run after him, then, and tell him I want to see him first," said Mr. Andrews.
The old clerk, who knew all the secrets of the office as well as Mr. Andrews did himself, came back the next minute.
"I want a word with you," said Mr. Andrews, "before you go out. Sit down for a moment. Have you heard any talk of the new railway lately?"
The man smiled, and shook his head. "That is as dead as a door-nail," he said in a lower tone.
"Not if what I have heard this morning is true. Now I want you to send a confidential telegram to Barclay about this. He will understand what I mean, but they won't at the post office, and you understand I don't want the news to be the town talk yet."
The old man nodded. "It will make a deal of difference to this office if it should be true," he remarked.
"Yes, it will. But I also want to find out which of the two lads is making himself the talk of the place over that new billiard saloon. Do you think you could find out for me whether it is Lady Mary's son or the lad that will be benefited if this railway comes through the town? Lady Mary's son is a little chap, thin and delicate-looking, but our lad is a tall, strapping fellow. Be particular that you do not confuse the one with the other, and if it is necessary to spend a little money in pressing the enquiry, it can go down as office expenses. You understand, Phillips?"
"Oh, yes, sir! I think I know what you want, and you may trust me for making sure of my facts before I bring you the information."
Then Mr. Andrews wrote his telegram to a confidential agent in London, and before he left the office to return home that evening he heard that the information he had received might be relied upon. So that now it only depended upon the report he heard as to how Arthur was spending his time in the evenings, whether he should exercise all his skill and power to rescue the property that nominally belonged to him, or whether he should let things drift to the end that was inevitable—foreclosure by those who held it as security for money lent, that had simply been wasted in idle indulgence by its late owners.
THE NEW RAILWAY
A FORTNIGHT passed. Arthur's face had lost all trace of the blows he had received in trying to rescue his cousin, and Adrian was once more lounging about the streets of the town, although everybody had heard by this time that he was going to Oxford as soon as the necessary arrangements had been made.
But a change had come over Arthur. That was quite evident to Molly at least. He often looked careworn, anxious, and perplexed, but to all her questions as to what was the matter she always received the same answer: "Nothing that I know of, Pussy. When I know anything worth telling, you shall know it."
This, so far as Arthur was concerned, was only half the truth, for in point of fact he was very uncomfortable at his work, now that Mr. Brading's manner towards him had totally changed. Jack was never allowed to come in and have five minutes' chat with him, as he used to do at first, and yet no fault was found with him. There was nothing that he could definitely lay hold of and say, "Why am I treated thus?"
Everybody treated him with politeness, and yet he fancied they looked at him suspiciously. Mr. Brading was icy in his demeanour towards him. Instead of meeting him with a pleasant smile of greeting when he came in, there was only the coldest and most distant recognition of his presence.
One day when Arthur was out he saw Jack Brading coming towards him, and noticed that the next minute, when he had recognized him, he darted down a side street, and Arthur felt sure that it was on purpose to avoid him.
This was harder to bear than anything he had yet endured, and that evening he went home with a severe headache. He was not much better in the morning, but he insisted upon getting up and going to his work as usual, although both his sisters tried to persuade him to stay in bed for an hour longer at least.
"You forget it is my duty to see to the letters," said Arthur, as he picked at his breakfast, but failed to eat half of it.
"I am sure there is something wrong down at that shop," said Molly, after he had gone.
But Annie gave but a divided attention to what her sister said. She was thinking of a rumour that had reached her ears the day before—but which had been told her as a great secret—that the railway, in which so many hopes had centred in years gone by, was coming at last, and before Arthur had got half-way to the London Road, she had told Molly.
The girl shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. "I shall believe it when the station is built, but not before," she said. "Don't tell Mamma about it, or she will never be satisfied with her new dressing-gown. She is pleased enough with it, and with the idea of saving money by turning old dresses into new ones, but only mention that railway and see what will happen! More than half the dresses she has got put away were bought on the news coming that we were going to sell some of the land for the railway. No! I shall never believe it any more," concluded Molly.
This so far impressed Annie that she agreed to keep the good news to herself, at least for the present, and so Mrs. Murray knew nothing of the hopes and fears that alternately made Annie hot and cold as she thought of what was hanging in the balance for them, if only the report should prove to be true.
At last she could keep the secret to herself no longer. She must tell Arthur, and as he had been so ready to go to Mr. Andrews for advice when it was the question of stricter economy that had to be practised, she thought he ought to go now and hear what was likely to happen.
But Arthur shook his head. "I heard about this a day or two ago, and you may be sure that Andrews has heard it as well, and if there is anything to be done for us he will do it. But I am afraid it comes a little too early and a little too late to do us any good now."
"Why, what do you mean, Arthur?" asked his sister.
"You talk in riddles, as though you were a lawyer too!" said Molly, keenly watching her brother, and feeling sure that there was some secret trouble that he did not like to tell them about. And she tried to rouse him out of it by saying, "Now explain your riddle, that we simple folk may have the benefit of your wisdom."
"Well, it's just this," said Arthur, trying to look amused and interested. "If the railway had come years ago, we should not have been over head and ears in debt on the expectation of it, for every bit of the property, except this cottage, has been mortgaged to its full value. Mr. Andrews told me that the first time I saw him, for he thought I ought to know just how things stood, that I might understand the necessity there was for me to obtain employment, and persevere with it, whatever it might be."
"And now you think you might have done better than go to a shop?" interrupted Annie. "You are vexed that you did not take my advice and wait a little longer, instead of being in such a hurry to take the first thing that offered."
"Not a bit of it!" replied Arthur promptly. "The work I have to do suits me down to the ground, and I would not exchange it for anything else, because I like figures, and am quick, and accurate too, at book-keeping. No, no; don't you get the idea into your heads that if this railway scheme is going to be carried out, I am going to throw up my employment. As I said before, if Andrews can save anything out of the wreck, it must be for Mamma and you girls. I can shift for myself very well, for I have no doubt, if I continue to give satisfaction, Mr. Brading will raise my salary in a year. In fact he said as much, so that you see I can be independent of the property."
"No, you can't, Arthur," put in Molly. "I have heard Papa say it was his great wish that the property should come to you as it did to him, and it must if the others don't grab it all."
"Ah! That's the hard nut that has to be cracked, if you girls are to stay here with Mamma in comfort. The 'others' lent or gave their money on this land, and if we can't pay back what they lent when they want it, why, of course they take the land instead! There's no grabbing about it. Papa and Grandpapa between them had the money, and spent it; so, of course, there is none left for us. It is purely a matter of business," added Arthur.
In point of fact, this question of the railway coming through the Murray property was of small moment to Arthur just now. The trouble that weighed upon his mind was the changed attitude Mr. Brading had assumed towards him. He knew sufficient of his character now to be certain that he would not do this without some grave reason, and he was beginning to see that the only possible cause to disturb the harmony of his relations with everybody in the house was Lady Mary's missing letter.
He had been questioned about this very closely by Mr. Brading once, but he could only reply that if the letter had been received from the post office, he should have delivered it to Mr. Langley in the usual way. He certainly had not noticed the letter, although it did bear a coronet, but this was not to be wondered at, considering the number of letters he had to sort every morning. He would just glance at the department it was addressed to, and having ascertained this, he would place it in the bag and deliver it with a number of others. Of course there were occasional slips, and a letter got put into a wrong bag by mistake, in which case the manager receiving it set the matter straight by sending it at once to the department where it should have been delivered.
In spite of this rule, a strict enquiry had been made in every part of the house, in the hope of tracing the missing letter; but nothing had come of it. And there the matter remained, to Arthur's great annoyance and anxiety, for although no word of accusation had been spoken against him, he could feel that Mr. Brading, at least, suspected him of having some share in its disappearance.
As time went on, and no clue to the mystery presented itself, he felt sure that Mr. Brading thought he had actually stolen the letter, though why he should do this he was at a loss to know.
At first he felt very bitter about it, and was half-disposed to resign his situation, but on thinking over the matter closely and calmly, he saw that this would never do. Hard as it was to stay, he must not leave so long as Mr. Brading would let him remain.
If the letter was never found, he might live down the suspicion felt against him just now, and by his life prove to all that he could not be guilty of this theft. He had come to this resolution that very afternoon, and at the same time had determined that he would keep the whole matter to himself, since no good could be done by troubling his sisters with it.
So when the talk was over, that occupied so much of Annie's thoughts just now, he went up to his own room, for his head ached, and he wanted to have a little quiet time to himself, and try to think out a reasonable excuse for Mr. Brading taking up such a prejudice against him.
It was hard for the lad to think such a thing possible, but as Mr. Brading was known to be most fair and just in all his dealings, there must be some basis on which he could rest his suspicion, apart from the mere loss of the letter. And after going back to the old school-days, when he had first heard of the family characteristic of living on credit, he came to the conclusion that Mr. Brading was not so much to blame after all.
School-boys are invariably frank in their criticism of each other, and he remembered once that a lad had told him his father was no better than a thief, if he could not pay for the things he bought, and never tried to work that he might have the means of doing so.
There had been a tremendous fight on the way home from school, and the boy had gone home with a black eye. But it is doubtful whether he suffered half so much from Arthur's fists as Arthur himself did from the words that had been spoken, for he knew even then that there was some truth in the accusation, and that his fist had not cleared his father's name from the aspersion.
Now, might it not be the same thought lingering in Mr. Binding's mind, and that if there was not this inheritance of debt clinging to him, he would never have thought twice before deciding that he, Arthur, was innocent of this theft, wherever the letter might have gone. If only he could get rid of it; if only he could earn the right to say, "No man was ever wronged of a penny through my father!"
Then after a time came thoughts of the railway, and at once he began to hope that this might prove a means of vindicating his father's memory. So, without waiting to think a second time, he got pen and ink and paper to write and tell Mr. Andrews of the report he had heard, and to ask that if anything could be saved of their old patrimony, the first use to be made of it should be to pay everyone who had ever lent them money that was not refunded in full.
After this, if there was anything that could be spared, it was to be set aside for his mother and sisters, as he felt sure now that he would always be able to earn enough to keep himself, and consequently would not want any of this money for himself. He was just signing his name to this letter when Molly knocked at the door.
And Arthur felt so relieved by what he had done, that he could meet her with a smile, when in answer to her knock, he said: "Come in, you fidgety puss."
"I have come to see what you are doing," announced Molly, looking at the writing materials on the table.
"Well, you can see I have been writing a letter, and now I am going to address it to Mr. Andrews."
"What have you been writing about?" asked the girl curiously.
"What were we talking about before I came upstairs? Well, I have been thinking it would be better to tell Andrews what we have heard about the railway coming, and if he can save any of the old property, that we should like him to clear off all Papa's old debts first, and then whatever is left should be taken care of for Mamma and you girls. I felt sure it was what you and Annie would wish, and so I have said so."
"Yes, Arthur, that is right, I am sure, but I don't think any difference should be made. It is really your patrimony, and I don't see why you should give it all to us. We might share and share alike perhaps."
"Two bites at a cherry won't satisfy anybody," replied Arthur, "and I am afraid the cherry will be so small, even if it is saved, that there will be only half a bite for anybody after the old debts are paid. I think it will be a lesson to me for all my life never to get into debt," added Arthur.
But Molly did not know how bitter the thought of this was to her brother just now.
It was arranged that Molly should go for a walk with him as far as Mr. Andrews' house, and then slip the letter into the letter-box at the door. So Molly ran and fetched her hat and cape, and the brother and sister were soon in the street walking towards the lawyer's house.
They were just turning the corner of the street, when all at once Molly seized her brother's arm, and gripped it so tightly that he thought for the moment she must be ill. "Look! Look!" she whispered. "There is Adrian coming towards us, and he cannot walk straight! Oh dear, he will fall down directly!"
Arthur stood still for a minute, and then, seeing that the young fellow was almost as helpless as he had been when he met him before, he went forward and took his arm.
Adrian tried to shake him off, but Arthur was the stronger, and he held him in a firm grasp as he said: "I say, this won't do. You know your mother will be greatly upset if she should know you have been to that saloon again!"
"Mind your own business, and don't go chattering!" he muttered, with an ugly oath.
"Molly, you must not stand there! Go home, dear, and I will leave the letter as I go past Mr. Andrews' office in the morning. I must take this chap home, or he may fall among thieves again."
"You're a nice fellow to talk about thieves! Who stole my mother's letter down at that shop?" sneered Adrian, who was not so drunk that he could not recognize Arthur.
Arthur's face blazed crimson with anger for a minute, and he felt disposed to knock his cousin down, but second thoughts compelled him to hold him up lest he should fall.
"Don't be a fool, Adrian," he said. "You know more about that letter than I do."
"It's a lie! It's a lie! You can't prove anything! I tell you there is nothing you can prove against me!" he hissed.
"Don't you make too sure of that, old chap," said Arthur when he could speak, for he was so utterly astonished at the words Adrian had used, that he could only stare at him for a minute, while Molly looked at both of them, wondering whether she could have heard aright, and what it could mean.
"Shall I put you into a cab, and tell the man to drive you home?" asked Arthur, after a pause to consider what he had better do.
"I can get home without your help!" muttered Adrian.
"But this is not the way home," said Arthur. "You have come to the wrong end of the town. Let me walk back with you and put you on the road," said Arthur.
And he was not without hope that some stray word would give him a clue as to what had been done with the missing letter and cheque. So he took Adrian's arm to go back with him, while Molly, equally determined to see that her brother did not have another black eye for his pains, walked on the other side. And they were walking like this when all at once the half-drunken young fellow saw her for the first time, and immediately demanded that she should come and walk with him.
"Go home, Molly," whispered Arthur.
"Don't you go, Moll, for a cad and a thief," said Adrian.
"Look here! I'm not going to stand any of that nonsense," said Arthur. "If you don't keep a civil tongue in your head, I shall hand you over to the first policeman I meet, and—"
"But they can't prove anything against me, I tell you! If I had the cheque, you had the letter with the biggest bite! So your mouth should keep shut. Come here, Moll!" he cried.
"My sister shall not come near you," said Arthur sternly.
"Then I'm hanged if I'm going to walk with you—a mean shop-thief like you!" And, as he spoke, he gave himself a violent twist and wrenched himself away from Arthur's detaining hold, and the next minute sat down on the pavement the very picture of helpless imbecility.
Molly uttered a slight scream, and Arthur looked at him for a minute, wondering what he should do next.
At last he turned to Molly and said: "I cannot leave him where he is, dear. Will you mind going to the next street and calling a cab? Or will you stand and watch him while I go for it?"
"Oh no, no! I would rather run a mile than be near him when he looks like that! Oh, poor Aunt Mary! What will she say!" exclaimed the girl, as she ran off to where she knew a cab would be found. She was not gone long, and she happened to find the man who had taken Adrian home before.
"Good evening, sir!" he said to Arthur as he jumped from the box to help his fare into the vehicle.
"You'll know where to take him this time," said Arthur.
"Yes, sir, I've taken him twice since you went with us," said the cabman.
And Adrian was deposited in the bottom of the cab, and then the brother and sister turned homewards.
WHAT DID HE MEAN?
AS the cab drove off, bearing Adrian towards his home, the brother and sister walked on in silence for a minute or two, quite forgetting the object of their walk in the thoughts that occupied their minds.
At last Molly said, "We never used to have secrets from each other. Won't you tell me what Cousin Ted meant by calling you a thief, and saying you stole his mother's letter?"
After a minute's pause, Arthur said: "Look here, Molly, I don't know much more about the affair than you do, except this: that a letter was sent to our Mr. Langley a week or two ago, and it never reached him. Lady Mary came and saw the governor, and made a fine row about it. She told him, I believe, that her son posted the letter, but after what Ted has said to-night, I shall begin to think that neither the post office nor we lost it."
"He was tipsy, you know, Arthur," said Molly, who would far rather think the post office guilty of stealing the letter than that anyone belonging to her should be deemed guilty of the mean action.
"Yes, if he had not been tipsy, he would not have said what he did; but 'when the drink is in, the wit is out.' I wonder whether he will remember what he said when he wakes up in the morning!" said Arthur in a musing tone. "I think I ought to tell Mr. Bristow what he said, it may prove to be a clue for discovering who had the cheque."
"Who do they think stole it?" asked Molly.
"Well, you see, I have to sort the morning mailbag and distribute the letters, and so naturally the suspicion rests upon me."
"Arthur!" exclaimed the girl, stopping in the middle of the street and seizing him by the shoulders.
"Don't, Molly! Don't do that! And don't say a word to them at home."
"But—but, Arthur, nobody can really think you would do such a thing!" said poor Molly, with gasp.
"I don't know, dear, quite what people think, only I have fancied lately that Mr. Brading does, and Jack has not been in to see me as he used to the first month I was there."
"Then it is this that has made you look so pale and anxious lately? I was sure that something must have happened. You must not stay there, of course. I shall begin to think, with Annie, that you ought never to have gone to that shop!"
"Oh, I like the work very well, and Mr. Brading—"
"Yes, yes, we know all about that," interrupted Molly impatiently. "But now you must leave, of course; you cannot stay there to be insulted."
"Nobody has insulted me, Molly; and as for leaving, I must stay now until this affair is cleared up. Why, if the railway were to bring us a fortune directly, I would go to Mr. Brading and say, 'Let me stay here until I can prove that I am innocent of this theft.' It would be the only way of clearing my character in the eyes of the world. I never thought of the value of this until lately, but I can see it is the only way for me, hard as it may be. But I say, we have forgotten this letter."
And Arthur was just turning to run across the road, when he came into contact with Mr. Andrews, very much as he had done the first time he met him.
"I beg your pardon, I am very sorry," said Arthur, when he could recover the power to speak.
"You are doing the steam-engine trick again," said the lawyer.
And then he saw Molly, and asked her why she allowed her brother to be out of her keeping, seeing he was such a danger to the public when left to himself?
"This is the second time he has nearly knocked me backwards," added the old gentleman.
"I was taking a letter to your house," said Arthur. "I hope the news in it will not affect you in a similar way. I cannot say I think much of it myself at present."
"Well, well, as you say it is a high explosive, I will wait until I reach the safety of my own armchair before opening it, and I should advise you young people to go home now."
"Yes, indeed we must," said Molly, "for we have been out much longer than we intended, and Annie will be in a fright about us."
And the two shook hands with Mr. Andrews and wished him good-night.
This fortnight which had brought such an uneasiness and anxiety to Arthur had not been much more pleasant to Lady Mary. She wrote letters and sent telegrams to her lawyer, but could only get vague polite assurances from his chief clerk that her business should be attended to at the earliest possible moment, and then at last she heard that Mr. Simmons was ill, and had been obliged to leave home for rest and change. She obtained this information at last, after a personal protest to the young man left in charge of the office and business.
"Why didn't you tell me this when I first called and asked to see Mr. Simmons?" fumed Lady Mary. "What business had you to tell me that Mr. Simmons would see me the next day?"
And the Irish Jig was performed for the edification of the other two clerks, for at the thought of the hundred pounds she had paid for early information of what all the town was now talking of, she felt like tearing her hair, or else the clerk's who had managed to delay her business.
"And you mean to tell me that Mr. Simmons has not had my letters?"
"I was compelled to obey orders, my lady. The letters went up to the house, but I don't think the doctor would let him open them. I have had to keep things going here as well as I could, but as your letters were marked 'Strictly private,' why, of course they wouldn't be opened till Mr. Simmons could attend to them himself, my lady."
The young man evidently thought this ought to reassure the irate lady, but it only made her the more angry. "I might just as well have thrown my hundred pounds in the gutter, and all through setting an idiot like you to look after business! What was Simmons thinking about to trust anybody like you with his office?"
And again followed another example of the Irish jig that well-nigh made the clerks forget they were on duty, and that it was no less a personage than Lady Mary Murray that was provoking their laughter.
This interview at her lawyer's office took place the same day that Arthur and Molly met Adrian in the evening, and she went home from that interview determined that no further time should be lost, and recalling all the legal phraseology she could to her aid, she wrote to Mr. Andrews as she imagined the lawyer would have done. At any rate she made her meaning clear enough, which was this: that she now held all the mortgages on the Murray property, and she intended to foreclose at once unless the money was paid with interest up to date, and paid within ten days.
To her utter astonishment and dismay, she received a letter from Mr. Andrews the next day, saying that the money was ready to be paid over when Mr. Simmons was well enough to transact business.
"Adrian! What do you think of the impudence of that lawyer Andrews? He has actually written to say that I can have my money as soon as Simmons is well enough to settle the business!"
"What money is that?" asked Adrian, rousing himself from his sleepy lethargy to look across at his mother. "What money is that?" he repeated. "You told me only yesterday that you were very short of cash just now."
"So I am, dreadfully short!" replied the lady.
"Then I suppose you will be glad to hear that you can get this money? And I know I am, for I want some, and you must let me have it too," said the young fellow in a sulky defiant tone.
"Adrian! What do you mean?" exclaimed his mother in a tone of astonishment.
"Well, Mother, you seem to forget that I am not a school-boy, and want money like other young men."
"What for? I am sure you have everything you can want at home here until you go to Oxford."
"I don't know that I shall go to Oxford now. What's the good of it? I may go to London and live in chambers like any other fellow. But now about this money, of course it is yours, but where has it been that you have always been so short of ready cash?"
"Lent on mortgage. Lent on land that the new railway must buy, and buy at my price. I have been waiting for years for this to happen. My brother, Lismore, always said it would come, sooner or later, and his word has come true for once."
"But if lawyer Andrews says you can have your money when you like, they don't mean to let you have the land," said Adrian roughly.
"But I won't have it! They can't pay it! Who would trust a shop-boy with five pounds? I wouldn't, after what has happened, and I shall go and see Andrews this morning, and ask him what he means by sending me such a letter? Of course it was always understood that I should foreclose when it suited me, in spite of the terms of the mortgage."
"What were the terms?" asked Adrian, who could be sharp enough where money was concerned, however dull and indifferent he might be in other matters. "What were the terms upon which you lent this money, Mother?"
"Well, just for form's sake, it was set down that if the money could be repaid within fourteen days from the time that I gave notice, then of course I could not touch the land. But they cannot repay it! I tell you it amounts to some thousands of pounds now, and they haven't as many farthings! I may let a little stand over, if they will agree to leave the town and the neighbourhood, but it is not pleasant to have poor relations close under one's nose, and I shall be glad to get rid of them."
"So shall I! For that prig, Arthur, is always interfering with me and my concerns. I can't even walk about the town but he is dogging my steps and trying to get things out of me, asking me questions about my affairs in the most impudent fashion, considering that he has disgraced our family and name by going to serve in a shop."
"He always was a most impudent, mischievous boy, and he certainly must be got rid of somehow."
"Well, if you can do it, I shall be glad enough. Only do it quietly, Mother. I don't want our name dragged through the gutter, the police called in, and all that sort of thing."
"I certainly shall call in the police, if he will not leave Fairmead without!"
"Very well, do as you like, only let me know, for I don't mean to be mixed up in such a disgraceful affair. I shall go to London and stay with my uncle Lismore for a little while. So give me due notice of the police being put on the job and I am off."
He suited the action to the word and lounged out of the morning-room and went upstairs, for it had just occurred to him that he might as well have his portmanteau packed in readiness in case his mother should forget to inform him that she had consulted the police, and he should be taken unawares, which would certainly be awkward.
Lady Mary sat considering the position of her affairs for a minute, and then resolved to call upon Mr. Andrews and find out, if she could, just what he meant by the letter she had received from him.
In answer to her question whether she could see Mr. Andrews, she was shown to his private room, and was received by the lawyer with no small surprise. "I have come to say that I am very much astonished at the terms of your letter," she said.
"Indeed, my lady! What was there so astonishing in it?" asked the old man.
"Well, you know I have lent my money—"
"At a very fair interest," interrupted the lawyer.
"Well, yes, I suppose it was," admitted the lady. "But still I always understood, since I took up the other mortgages, that the land would fall into my hands eventually. Poor Charles said many times, 'You will foreclose, Mary, when it suits you.'"
"Certainly, and you have given me due notice of your intention to do so, and I have replied that we, on our side, are prepared to pay over the amount due on all the land given as security."
"But you can't do it!" stamped Lady Mary.
"I beg your pardon! There is nothing in the deeds to prevent this, provided I have the money ready, and I may tell you that the money is ready now, and I wrote to Mr. Simmons at the same time I wrote to you, saying I should be glad to know when he could attend to this."
"I don't believe it!" almost screamed Lady Mary.
And having said this, she opened the door and almost ran out of the house in her excitement and indignation.
Without waiting to think what her next step should be, she walked as fast as she could to Arthur's home, and knocked so loudly at the door that the little maid dropped the plate she was washing, in her hurry to dry her hands and be ready to receive the important visitor at the door.
The two young ladies were out, she told the imposing-looking lady, dropping a curtsy in her awe of the stately stranger.
"I can see Mrs. Murray, I suppose?" said the visitor, pushing past the little maid and going to the stair.
"I will go and ask the mistress," said Alice in an awe-struck tone, as she ran after her.
"You need not trouble yourself," said Lady Mary. "I am an old friend of Mrs. Murray's. You need not look like that; I am not going to eat her."
"Oh, Mary, I thought you had quite forgotten us!"
Alice heard her mistress say these words, and then she went back to the kitchen to finish her dish-washing. She soon came to the conclusion, from the sounds that reached her from the upstairs room, that the door was not closed when the visitor went in, and that the two ladies were having what she called "a jolly row."
"I hope it's about them beastly cats as Missis is so fond of," muttered Alice, as she stood near the half-opened kitchen door.