The Allen House; Or, Twenty Years Ago and Now

“May we never make a part of good society, then!”

I kissed her pure lips, and answered,

“There is no present prospect of it, my Constance. I am not ambitious of social distinction. Still, our trial in this direction may come, for you know that I am not without ambition professionally. A chair in one of the medical schools might tempt me to an Atlantic city.”

Constance smiled, as she still rested her hand upon my arm. Then looking from my face to our little ones, two of whom were playing on the floor, while the third slept like a vision of innocence in the cradle, she said:—

“I shall not need the glitter of diamonds—these are my jewels.”

Turn your eyes away, good society reader, lest they be offended at sight of a husband’s kiss. Could I do less than breathe my tender love upon her lips again?

“And richer jewels were never worn in the diadem of a queen,” said I. “As a mother, woman attains her highest glory.”

“As wife and mother,” Constance answered quickly. And now she leaned against me, and I drew my arm tenderly around her.

“And all this,” she said, “a good society woman must give up; and for what? God help them in the time of life’s bitter trials and painful experience, which all must endure in some degree!” She spoke with strong feeling. “On what arm can a woman lean, who has no husband in the true sense? Is she strong enough, standing alone, for life’s great battles? What has she to sustain her, when all the external support, received from pride, is swept away? Alas! Alas! Is there a blinder folly than the pageantry of fashionable society? It is the stage on a grander scale, glittering, gorgeous, fascinating to the senses—but all a mere show, back from which the actors retire, each with an individual consciousness, and the sad words pressing to tremulous lips—‘The heart knoweth its own bitterness.’”

Like ourselves, most of Delia’s best friends were disappointed, and when she returned to New York, no hearts followed her with tender interest, except those of her own family. She had carried herself with an air of too much self-consequence; or, if she came down to the level of old friends and companions, it was with too evident a feeling of condescension.

I happened to fall into the company of Squire Floyd and Judge Bigelow, not very long after the return of Delia and her husband to New York. The conversation turned upon business, and I learned that the Squire had thought of enlarging his mill, and introducing steam—the water power being only sufficient for its present productive capacity. Judge Bigelow was very much interested, I found, in the particular branch of manufacture in which his neighbor was engaged, and inclined to embark some capital with him in the proposed extension of the works. They frequently quoted the Judge’s nephew, Mr. Ralph Dewey, as to the extent to which goods could be put into market by the house of Floyd, Lawson, Lee & Co., who possessed, it was conceded, almost unlimited facilities.

I listened to their conversation, which involved plans of enlargement, statistics of trade, home and foreign production, capital, and the like, until I began to feel that I was moving in a narrow sphere, and destined, in comparison with them, to occupy a very small space on the world. And I will confess it, a shade of dissatisfaction crept over my heart.

A few months later I learned that my two neighbors were jointly interested in the mill, and that early in the ensuing spring steam-power would be introduced, and the capacity of the works increased to more than double their present range.

It was December when Wallingford returned from England. He brought back with him all the evidence required to prove the identity of Mrs. Montgomery. Up to this time only three persons knew of the existence of a will—Mrs. Montgomery, Blanche, and myself; and we formed a council on the question of what was now to be done. I gave it as my opinion, that, as Judge Bigelow was one of the executors, and must in consequence cease to act for Mrs. Montgomery, that we had better call in Mr. Wallingford, and get his view of the case before placing the will in Judge Bigelow’s hands. The mother and daughter agreed with me. So a time of meeting was appointed, and a note sent to the young lawyer desiring his presence at the house of Mrs. Montgomery. He seemed very much gratified at the successful result of his visit to England, and referred to it with something of pardonable pride in his manner.

“We have every reason,” said Mrs. Montgomery, in response to this, “to be satisfied with the manner in which you have executed an important mission. Since you left America, however, a document has come into my hands, which, had it reached me earlier, would have saved you a long and tedious search among mouldy and moth-eaten papers. It was nothing less than Captain Allen’s will.”

And she gave him the paper. He looked surprised, and for a moment or two bewildered. Then opening the will, he read it through rapidly. I saw the color leave his face as he progressed, and his hand move nervously. It was plain that his mind took in, at a grasp, the entire series of consequences which the appearance of this document involved.

“This is a serious matter,” he said, looking up at Mrs. Montgomery.

“It is,” she answered, calmly. “The will appears to be in legal form.”

“Yes.”

“And must go into the hands of those who are named as executors.”

“And be by them entered in the office of probate,” added Wallingford.

“I would have placed it in their hands immediately on its discovery, but have, acting under advice from my kind friend here, waited until your return from England. No interest has suffered, I presume, by this delay?”

“None.”

Wallingford bent his eyes to the floor, and sat for some time as if half-confounded by the discovery.

“What step will the executors probably take?” I inquired.

“It will be their duty to assume possession of the estate, and hold it for the heirs of Mrs. Allen, if any are in existence,” he replied.

“And it will be their duty to take all proper means for discovering these heirs?” said I.

“Yes. That follows, of course.”

“And if none are found within a reasonable time?” I asked.

“The phrase, a reasonable time, is very indeterminate,” said Wallingford. “It may include one, or ten years, according to the facts in the case, the views of the executors and the courts.”

“But, finally?”

“Finally,” he answered, “if no heirs come forward to claim the estate, it will revert to the old line of descent through the blood relations of Captain Allen.”

“And come into the possession of Mrs. Montgomery?”

“Yes, if the courts are satisfied with the evidence which can be presented in her favor.”

There followed a long silence, which Mrs. Montgomery was first to break.

“I believe,” she said, firmly, “that I am prepared for the final issue of this matter, whatever it may be. I shall still require legal advice, Mr. Wallingford.”

The young man bowed assent.

“And, as Judge Bigelow is one of the executors—”

“I do not think, madam,” said Wallingford, interrupting her, “that the fact of his executorship will make him any the less a safe adviser for you. He is a man of the highest integrity of character, clear-seeing, and of impartial judgment.”

“I believe in his judgment and integrity,” she replied. “Still, I do not think it well to have these two interests represented by the same man. You are his associate, if I understand correctly the relation between you.”

“I am, in a certain sense.”

“Do you have a share in all of his business?”

“Not in all.”

“So he can be independent of you in any special case if he deems it desirable.”

“Yes.”

“And this is also true as regards yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Then, Mr. Wallingford, I shall consult you, individually, in future.”

He bowed low in acquiescence.

“And let me say to you, once for all, that I want only my rights, if I have any, protected. I do not wish any impediments thrown in the way of a proper search for the heirs of Mrs. Allen; but desire to see the fullest notice given, and in channels by which it is most likely to reach them. At the same time, it is but just to me and mine that all right steps should be taken to protect my interests, in case no heirs should be found. And I have faith in you, Mr. Wallingford.”