Chetwynd Calverley

IV. FATHER AND SON

Tall and thin, and very business-like in manner, was Mr. Carteret. Sitting down quietly beside the old gentleman, and taking the will from his clerk, he proceed to read it.

Though conducted with due deliberation, the ceremony did not occupy many minutes, and when the attorney had finished reading the document, Mr. Calverley declared himself perfectly satisfied.

“All you have to do is to sign it, sir,” said the attorney.

Accordingly, a small table was placed beside the invalid’s chair, and the will was duly executed and attested.

“Pray call in my wife,” said Mr. Calverley, as soon as this was done.

When Mrs. Calverley re-appeared, she was informed by her husband that the will was executed.

“Yes; the business is done, madam,” observed Mr. Carteret, with a very singular expression of countenance.

“Shall I leave the document with you, sir?”

“No; take charge of it,” replied Mr. Calverley.

“Well, perhaps, it will be best with me,” observed the attorney, glancing at the lady as he spoke.

He was in the act of tying up the instrument preparatory to consigning it to his clerk, when the door opened, and Chetwynd and his sister came in.

The old gentleman looked greatly startled by the unexpected appearance of his son, and did not, for a few moments, recover his composure.

Scarcely knowing what might ensue, Mrs. Calverley stepped between them.

“I was not aware of your return, Chetwynd,” said Mr. Calverley, as soon as he was able to speak.

“I have only just come back sir,” replied his son, regarding him steadfastly. “I hope I have arrived in time to prevent you from doing an act of injustice to me and my sister?”

“You will have much to answer for, Chetwynd, if you agitate your father at this moment,” interposed Mrs. Calverley. “You see what a critical state he is in!”

“I cannot help it, madam,” rejoined the young man. “I must and will speak to him while he is able to listen to me. Pray, don’t go, I beg of you, Mr. Carteret,” he continued, to the attorney, who was preparing to follow his clerk out of the room. “It is proper you should hear what I have to say. I have reason to believe, sir,” he added, to his father, “that you have left your entire property to your wife, and have made my sister and myself entirely dependent on her. If this is really the case, I entreat you to alter your determination – ”

“I don’t understand why you permit yourself to talk to me thus, Chetwynd,” interrupted the old gentleman, his anger supplying him with strength. “At all events, I shall not tolerate it. Even supposing it were as you state, I have a perfect right to bequeath my property as I see fit, and you have not proved yourself such a dutiful son as to merit consideration on my part. Wait till the fitting season, and you will learn what I have done.”

“No, sir; I won’t wait till your ears are deaf to my prayers! I will speak while you are able to listen to me. I may have given you some offence, but do not carry your resentment to the grave. Bethink you that whatever you do now will be irreparable.”

“I cannot bear this!” cried the old man. “Take him away! He distracts me!”

“Mr. Chetwynd,” said Carteret, “I am extremely reluctant to interfere; but your presence certainly disturbs your father very much. Let me beg you to retire!”

The young man showed no disposition to comply.

“Perhaps, Chetwynd, when I have spoken,” said Mr. Calverley, trying to calm himself, “you will either go or keep silence. I have done what, on mature consideration, and with the prospect of death before me, I deem best for you and your sister; and I am certain my wishes will be most faithfully carried out.”

“What you say, sir, seems to intimate that you have placed us entirely in the hands of your wife,” cried his son. “Why should you compel us to bow to her will and pleasure?”

“Because she will take care of you,” rejoined the old man; “and, though you are two-and-twenty, you have not come to years of discretion.”

“That is your opinion, sir. But, granting it to be correct, does it apply to my sister?”

“Your sister makes no complaint,” said his father, looking affectionately at her. “She knows I have done all that is right. She is in good hands.”

“Yes, I am quite sure of that, papa!” cried Mildred. “Pray don’t think about me!”

“Chetwynd,” she added to him, in a low tone, “I wouldn’t have brought you here had I imagined you would make this terrible scene!”

“I really must interfere to prevent the continuance of a discussion which I am aware can lead to no beneficial result,” interposed Mr. Carteret. “I would again beseech you, Mr. Chetwynd, not to trouble your father! I know he has good reasons for what he has done. Have you anything further to say to me, sir?” he added to Mr. Calverley.

“Stop a minute, Mr. Carteret, I beg of you!” cried Chetwynd. “I am yet in hopes that I may move him. Let me make one more appeal to your sense of justice, sir!” he added to his father. “I promise you it shall be the last!”

“I cannot listen to you!” replied Mr. Calverley.

“You refuse, then, to alter your will?”

“Positively refuse!” rejoined the old gentleman. “For heaven’s sake let me die in peace! Can you not prevail on him to go,” he added to his wife and daughter. “He will kill me outright!”

“You hear what your father says!” cried Mrs. Calverley, in an authoritative tone. “Go, I command you!”

“Yes, I will go,” rejoined Chetwynd; “but not at your bidding! You are the sole cause of this misunderstanding between my father and myself. By your arts you have cheated me out of my inheritance!”

“Ah!” ejaculated Mrs. Calverley.

“This is madness!” exclaimed Mr. Carteret, trying to drag him from the room.

“Hear my last, words, sir!” cried Chetwynd to his father. “I never will touch a shilling of your money if it is to be doled out to me by this woman!”

And he rushed out of the room.

V. THE OLD BUTLER

Pushing aside the attorney’s clerk, whom he found on the landing, he hurried downstairs, and had just snatched up his hat in the hall, when he perceived the old butler eyeing him wistfully.

He had a great regard for this faithful old servant, whom he had known since he was a boy, so he went up to him, and patting him kindly on the shoulder, said —

“Good-bye, dear old Norris. I don’t mean to remain a minute longer in my father’s house, and I may never return to it. Farewell, old friend!”

“You shan’t go out thus, sir, unless you knock me down,” rejoined Norris, detaining him. “You’ll do yourself a mischief. No one is in the dining-room. Please to go in there. I want to have a few words with you – to reason with you.”

And he tried to draw him towards the room in question; but Chetwynd resisted.

“Reason with me!” he exclaimed. “I know what you’ll say, Norris. You’ll advise me to make it up with my father, and bow the knee to my stepmother; but I’ll die rather!”

“Mr. Chetwynd, it’s a chance if your father is alive to-morrow morning. Think of that, and what your feelings will be when he’s gone. You’ll reproach yourself then, sir, for I know you’ve a good heart. I’ve got you out of many a scrape when you were a boy, and I’m persuaded something may be done now, if you’ll only condescend to listen to me.”

“Well, I’ll stay a few minutes on purpose to talk to you. But I hear Carteret coming downstairs. I don’t want to meet him. I don’t want to meet anybody – not even my sister.”