The Mynns' Mystery

“What?”

“I mean as you nearly did before, and blamed the chemist.”

“My dear Hampton, surely you acquit me of that business.”

“Oh, yes, if you like, but if I were you I’d get him into such an awful state of health that he should not want to spend money, and, as to wedding, that’s the last thing he should think of.”

“Absurd! absurd!” cried Doctor Lawrence angrily. “You non-professional men get the maddest notions into your heads.”

“Very well, then, try that.”

“Try what?”

“That which you were hinting about – madness.”

“What?”

“Can’t you contrive to make it appear that the man is non compos mentis. Then we lawyers could come in and get some one appointed to administer the estate – I mean a judge would do that.”

“My dear Hampton, I came to you for good advice, and you talk trash to me.”

“I’ve told you – trash or not – the only way of getting out of the difficulty, and I can do no more,” said the lawyer pettishly. “There, Lawrence, old fellow, we will not quarrel over this unfortunate affair. We can do nothing but look on and advise. George Harrington will tell us to go to Jericho if we say a word; and as to the lady, when a good, pure-minded young girl takes it into her head that it is her duty to do something or another, the more you preach at her, and try to get her to think as you do, the more she looks upon you as a worldly-minded old sinner, and persists in going her own gait. I can only see one thing to do.”

“Yes? What is it?” cried the doctor.

“Ram a lot of legal jargon into the scoundrel, and frighten him into making ample settlements on the poor girl, tying it down so that he can’t touch it, nor she neither, except as payments fall due. Then she’ll be safe when he dies of delirium tremens, or gets killed in some drunken brawl.”

“You think you can manage that, Hampton?” cried the doctor eagerly.

“Yes, I fancy I can contrive that, but if he proves to be obstinate, you must help me.”

“In any way I can.”

“That’s right. Well, then, you’ll have to bring him nearly to death’s door.”

“What?”

“Not near enough to make your conscience uneasy, but just enough to make him soft and workable. Sick men are the ones to make their wills, I can tell you. A hale, hearty man is as obstinate as a bull.”

“Look here, Hampton, if you expect me to degrade my noble profession by aiding and abetting in any dishonourable act, you are confoundedly mistaken, sir, and I wish you a very good morning.”

The doctor seized his hat and stick, put on the former with a bang which threatened injury to the skin of his forehead, and was going out of the room when he received a slap on the back, and faced round fiercely, to find the lawyer smiling as he held out his hand.

“What a confounded old pepper-box you are, Lawrence! Hang it, man! who wants to do anything dishonourable? Do you think I do? Now, after knowing me all these years, do you think it likely?”

“No,” cried the doctor, slapping his hand loudly into that of his friend; “but you shouldn’t look so serious when you are cracking a joke.”

“That’s the perfection of joking, my dear boy. Seriously, though, I shall try and force him into making heavy settlements upon that poor girl.”

“By all means do; and I’d give something if we could break off the match.”

“What do you say to forging a new will, forbidding the banns – eh?”

The doctor looked into the dry and mirthful countenance before him, shook his head, and went to the door.

“See you at dinner at The Mynns on Wednesday, I suppose?”

“Oh, yes,” said the lawyer, “for certain. We live there now, and if it was not for poor little Gertrude, I should be very glad when emancipation day came.”

Chapter Eighteen

Saul’s Invitation

Mr Hampton was quite right; Gertrude had nerved herself to the sacrifice, and looked forward to the wedding-day, although with apprehension, still with something akin to eagerness.

“But you don’t love him, my dear,” said Mrs Hampton, “and is it right for you to go to the altar like that?”

Gertrude was silent and thoughtful for some minutes before she raised her large clear eyes, and gazed full in the old lady’s face.

“Yes,” she said, “I think it is right. I shall have influence over him which will grow, and I shall then have the right to speak with authority – as his wife.”

Mrs Hampton sighed and shook her head.

“You have no faith,” said Gertrude, smiling, “I have. The real nature of which my dear guardian spoke is only hidden away, crusted over by the rough life George has led. Once we are married, he will think of his duties toward me, and he will change back to what he was.”

“Well, I hope so, my dear, for your sake, and you must forgive me because I am not so sanguine as I was at your age. I tell you what I would do first, though, if I were you.”

“Yes?”

“Get rid of Saul Harrington.”

“Yes, I should be glad to do that, and I shall try it,” said Gertrude, with a dreamy look in her eyes which changed to one of dislike and dread as a step was heard outside upon the gravel walk, and the two women looked at each other curiously.

“Talk of some one – ” said Mrs Hampton at last.

At that moment the door was opened, and Saul Harrington ushered in.

“Ah, ladies,” he said cheerily, “both indoors upon a day like this. Well, I’m glad to find you at home. Come to say good-bye.”

“Good-bye?” said Gertrude.

“Yes. I am going to the Continent for a month, and I have come down to try and persuade George to go with me. Do him no end of good. Where is he?”

“I think he is in the study,” said Gertrude.

“What do you say to my scheme? Can you spare him for a fortnight?”

“Spare who for a fortnight?” said the object of their debate, entering.