Chetwynd Calverley

The remarkable calmness – almost indifference – with which she spoke, piqued him, and he exclaimed:

“Very well; I accept it! There is an end of all between us!”

Scarcely were the words uttered, than he repented, and would have recalled them. He looked appealingly at her, but she seemed so cold, that he became fortified in his resolution.

Mr. Calverley soon learnt what had happened from Mildred; but, feeling sure he could set matters right, he sent for his son, and insisted on his marrying Miss Mildmay, on pain of his severest displeasure.

Chetwynd refused point blank.

“You won’t?” cried the old gentleman, ready to explode.

“I have already given you an answer, sir,” rejoined his son. “I adhere to my determination! Pray don’t put yourself in a passion. It won’t have any effect upon me!”

“Very well,” said Mr. Calverley, with difficulty controlling his rage. “Since you decline to fulfil your engagement, I’ll marry her myself!”

“Ridiculous!” cried his son.

“Ridiculous or not, you’ll find I shall be as good as my word.”

“Pshaw! The young lady won’t accept you.”

He was mistaken, however.

The young lady did accept the old gentleman, and so readily that it almost seemed she preferred him to his son. Within a month, they were married.

Before the marriage Chetwynd went abroad, and did not keep up any communication with his family. They ascertained, however, that he was at Bellagio, on the Lake of Como.

Apparently, Mr. Calverley had no reason to regret the extraordinary step he had taken. Teresa made him an excellent wife, and seemed quite devoted to him. She studied him in everything – read the newspaper to him of a morning, chatted agreeably to him when they drove out together in the barouche, played and sang to him in the evening, and, in short, kept him constantly amused. She managed his large establishment perfectly – better than it had ever been managed before. She quarrelled with none of his old friends – even though she might deem some of them bores – but always appeared delighted to see them. Above all, she continued on the most affectionate terms with Mildred, who had never disapproved of the match. Nothing could be more judicious than her conduct.

At first, everybody cried out Mr. Calverley was an “old fool;” but they soon said he was a very sensible man, and exceedingly fortunate.

He was not, however, destined to enjoy a long term of happiness. Hitherto, he had scarcely known a day’s illness; but a few months after his marriage his health began rapidly to decline.

Teresa tended him with the greatest solicitude.

III. MR. CALVERLEY

Repairing to the invalid’s chamber, we shall find Mr. Calverley seated in an easy-chair, his head supported by a pillow. For nearly a fortnight he had not left his bed, but he insisted on getting up that day.

He had been a fine-looking old gentleman; but he was now wonderfully reduced, and his attire hung loosely on him. Still his countenance was very handsome.

His young wife was seated on a tabouret by his side, watching him anxiously with her large black eyes. She was wrapped in an Indian shawl dressing-gown, which could not conceal her perfectly-proportioned figure.

“Give me a glass of wine, Teresa,” he said, in a scarcely audible voice. “I feel that dreadful faintness coming on again.”

She eagerly obeyed him.

With difficulty he conveyed the wine to his lips; but having swallowed it, he seemed better.

Taking his wife’s hand, he looked at her earnestly, as he thus addressed her:

“I must soon leave you, Teresa. Nay, do not interrupt me. I know what you would say. It must be, my love. I cannot be deceived as to my state. You have been an excellent wife, Teresa – a great comfort to me – a very great comfort. You are aware I have given my solicitor, Mr. Carteret, instructions respecting my will. I will now tell you what I have done. I have the most perfect confidence in you, Teresa, and I know you will carry out my instructions.”

“Be sure of it, my dear,” she murmured.

“Teresa,” he continued, speaking very deliberately, “I have left my entire property to you.”

“To me!” she ejaculated, a slight flush tinging her pale cheek. “Oh, love, it is not right you should do this! I am amply provided for already by the handsome settlement you made upon me, and I tell you at once, if you leave me your property, I shall not keep it. I shall divide it between Chetwynd and Mildred.”

A faint smile lighted up the features of the dying man.

“I had formed a correct opinion of you, Teresa,” he said, looking at her affectionately. “I know the goodness of your heart and the rectitude of your principles.”

Then, slightly changing his manner, he added, “I must now make an effort to explain myself, and I pray you to give strict attention to what I am about to say. I have left you the whole of my property, because I feel certain it will be placed in safe hands, and I mean you to represent myself.”

“I listen!” she murmured.

“First, with regard to Chetwynd. I do not exactly know how he is circumstanced, but I fear he is in debt. He has always been extravagant. I think it will be best to continue the allowance I have hitherto made him, of six hundred a year, for the present; and if he marries, or reforms, let him have thirty thousand pounds.”

“It shall be done exactly as you enjoin,” said his wife, earnestly.

“Beyond the sum I have settled on you, Teresa,” continued the old man, “I estimate my property at sixty thousand pounds. Of this one half is to go to Chetwynd, provided he reforms; the other half to Mildred, on her marriage, provided she marries with your consent. This house, with the plate, pictures, books, furniture, carriages, and horses, and all the lands attached to it, are yours – for life.”

“Oh! you are too good to me!” she exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears.

“I have now told you all!” he said. “I leave you mistress of everything; and; since you know my wishes, I am sure you will act up to them.”

“I will! I will!” she ejaculated, in broken accents.

“Enough! I shall now die content!”

He then closed his eyes, and his lips slightly moved, as if in prayer.

Teresa constrained her emotion by a strong effort; and, for a few minutes, perfect silence prevailed.

The door was then softly opened by an elderly manservant, out of livery, who came to inform his master that Mr. Carteret had returned.

“Show him up at once, Norris,” said Mr. Calverley, opening his eyes.

“His clerk is with him,” said the butler.

“Show the clerk up as well,” rejoined the old gentleman.

“Shall I withdraw?” asked Mrs. Calverley, as the butler retired.

“Perhaps you had better, my dear, till the will is signed,” replied her husband.

Mrs. Calverley remained till the attorney appeared, and having exchanged a word in a low tone with him, left the room.