The Mynns' Mystery

“About him, perhaps; but about dear Gertrude.”

“What can we do?”

“Get her away from here. I am so sick of it. It’s terrible the way he goes on. Really, I think sometimes the old man would have done better to have left his money to Saul.”

“Oh, hang it, no, my dear. We’re in for it, though. Can’t we go home?”

“Decidedly not – without Gertrude.”

“But she isn’t our child.”

“Now, if you are going to talk rubbish, Phineas, I’ve done. I know she is not our child, but is that any reason why we should shut our bowels of compassion against her?”

“No, my dear.”

“I like the girl very much, and so do you, and we’re going to do our duty.”

“Of course, my dear.”

“Then we must get her away to our place.”

“Delighted to have her.”

“She must not stay here – that’s certain; and if we get her away, perhaps she’ll escape this odious engagement.”

“To a young man with a large fortune.”

“Don’t talk rubbish, Phineas! What’s the good of a large fortune to a tipsy man? He’ll pour it all down the sink.”

“Humph! His own.”

“And break her heart in a year.”

“Poor child!”

“I know. Why, he’s bordering on delirium tremens now.”

“My dear Rachel, how can you know anything about DT?”

“Do you think I’m a fool, Phineas?”

“No, my dear, I certainly don’t.”

“Then give me credit for having eyes in my head. I’d give anything to have that cellar bricked-up.”

“I should like a few dozen of that choice port and the old East Indian sherry first.”

“Pish! You’re better without.”

“I don’t know, Rachel. And there’s a fine old Madeira, too.”

“He is quite transforming the place. Why, he’s having a horrible gaming-table set up in the west room.”

“My dear, prejudiced old wife, you have one at home, so why should not he?”

“For shame, Phineas! Nothing of the kind.”

“Why, there’s a card-table in the drawing-room, where you play rubbers of whist.”

“Well, that’s not a gambling-table. This is a – ”

“Billiard-table, Rachel. Don’t talk such nonsense. I’d rather see him play billiards all day than sit drinking with Saul Harrington.”

“Oh, don’t tell me. I know better. And now mind this, we must get Gertrude away, and I shall not be happy till we do.”

“Well, I’ll think about it; but it’s a serious thing, my dear. If we get her away the marriage will not come off, and it was the old man’s wish.”

“Because he did not know what his beautiful grandson was like. There, it’s growing late, and I’ve got to change my frock.”

Mrs Hampton, who looked very nettled and upset, was half way to the door when the gate-bell rang.

“Here’s Lawrence,” said the old lawyer, going to the window, an announcement which sent Mrs Hampton off with a loud whishing sound of silk over the carpet and against the door-post, as she hurried out. “Ah, Hampton! how are you?”

“Don’t want any pills or any other medicine,” said the dry old lawyer grimly, as the doctor entered the room.

“Well, shake hands,” said the fresh comer, as he finished making a neat packet of his gloves by stuffing one in the other.

“Hands clean?”

“Bless my soul, man, yes!”

“Not been handling any contagious patients?”

“Get out! Of course not. How are things looking?” said the doctor, after a long conversation on things in general.

“Horribly.”

“You don’t say so. Well, I’m very, very sorry.”

“For little Gertrude’s sake? So am I.”

“You’ve heard something.” The lawyer nodded.

“Well, as brother executor, speak out.” The lawyer drew a long breath, screwed up his face, and half shut his eye.

“You know that there was a good balance at the bank.”

“Yes, excellent.”