Silverthorns

“How unlucky,” sighed Mrs Waldron. “I cannot send the letter without talking to your father, and he will come home so tired. Arthur,” for Arthur as well as Charlotte was in her confidence, “can you manage to keep Ted and Noble quiet in the school-room so that I can speak to your father uninterruptedly? Tell them he will be tired, and will like to be quiet.”

“All right, mother; I’ll see to it,” and a moment or two later certain ominous sounds from the school-room announced that Arthur was favouring his younger brothers with a specimen of certain strong measures he intended to resort to, should occasion arise, such as their “kicking up a row or making fools of themselves when mamma wanted to be quiet.”

He achieved his purpose, however. Mrs Waldron was alone, and the house was unusually silent when their father came in; he went straight to the drawing-room.

“You must be very tired, Edward,” said Mrs Waldron, starting up, “and hungry too. You have not had dinner.”

“Yes, thank you; I have had all I want,” he replied. “Tea then, or coffee?”

“In a little while, perhaps, but not just yet. I’m glad you are alone, Amy; I want to talk to you. How is Jerry to-day?”

“Much the same. I want to talk to you too – about Jerry – about what Dr Lewis has been saying,” Mrs Waldron began.

Her husband looked up sharply, and then she noticed that he was very pale, and as she mentioned the doctor’s name he started.

“Not anything worse? You are not trying to break anything dreadful to me, Amy,” he said hoarsely. “What a mockery it would all seem if it had come too late!” he added, as if speaking to himself, in a lower voice, though not so low as not to be heard by his wife. But she did not stop to ask the meaning of his words – she was too eager to set his anxiety at rest.

“Oh, no, no,” she said; “there is nothing new. It is only that Dr Lewis does so very earnestly advise – ”

“His going abroad for some months,” interrupted Mr Waldron, his face clearing. “Yes, I know that. You spoke of it a little the other day; but I did not know till to-day that he urged it so very strongly.”

“Till to-day,” repeated Mrs Waldron, bewildered; “how did you hear it to-day? Has Dr Lewis been to see you?”

“No,” said her husband, with a rather peculiar smile, “it was not from him I heard it. Why did you not tell me how much he had said about it, Amy?”

“I have been going to do so all these last days,” she said; “but I waited to think over any feasible plan before saying more to you. I knew you were busy and worried. And even now I have but little to propose,” and she went on to tell of her letter to Mrs Knox, and her hopes of some advice or help in that quarter. Mr Waldron listened and again he smiled.

“I think I have a better plan than that to talk about,” he said. “You will scarcely believe me, Amy, when I tell you that I have this afternoon a letter from Lady Mildred Osbert offering to take charge of Jerry at Cannes for some weeks, or months – in fact for as long as it would be well for him to stay there.”

“From Lady Mildred!” Mrs Waldron ejaculated. “Edward! How ever did she know about his being ordered to go?”

“For that, and perhaps for the idea itself, we have to thank that young niece of hers, Charlotte’s schoolfellow. Jerry told us how kind the girl was to him, and in writing to her he must have said, quite innocently, of course, what Dr Lewis wished for him. They are leaving themselves for Cannes to-morrow; but Lady Mildred proposes that – that I should take Jerry to them next week.”

“You?” said Mrs Waldron, growing pale with suppressed anxiety and excitement. “Oh, Edward, you have more to tell me. What should she want to see you for, when she has always so completely ignored us as relations, unless there is some great change in some way.”

“Yes, Amy; there is a great change. That is what I wanted to tell you. The reason I did not come home earlier as usual to dinner was that I wanted to think it over quietly, to take it in as it were, before I tried to tell you about it. I have felt as if I were dreaming since I got the letters.”

“Letters?” half whispered Mrs Waldron; “were there more than one then? You said the one about Jerry was from Lady Mildred herself.”

“Yes; but it referred to another – a long and clear and most important letter from the London solicitors; it was in fact written by old Miller himself. I will show it you afterwards, but just now I want merely to tell you the drift of it all.”

“I think I can guess it,” said Mrs Waldron; “Lady Mildred has found out that she has been unfairly prejudiced against you, and she wants now to do something to help us. It will be a great boon, whatever it is – this offer for Jerry alone has lifted a terrible weight from my mind. But how has she changed so?”

“My dear Amy, don’t run on so fast. It is true that Lady Mildred has changed, but there is a great deal more to tell. You heard of Mr Osbert’s death, the General’s elder son? Well it appears that the second one, the only other – is dying. He has been in a hopeless state for years, but Lady Mildred did not know it. Mr Miller evidently thinks it was concealed purposely. She has had very little communication with the Osberts, and she has always thought of the sons as certain to succeed, as the General is an old man. But, do you see, Amy, as things are, there will be no Osbert to succeed?”

Mrs Waldron looked up bewilderedly.

“But it is all in Lady Mildred’s hands, is it not?” she said. “She can leave Silverthorns to her own family, can she not?”

“She can legally leave it to anybody, but she considers herself absolutely bound by her husband’s expressed wishes; and those were that it should never leave the family. Mr Miller says, that failing the Osberts, the Squire instructed Lady Mildred to look up all remoter connections; but till now, it does really seem very strange, she did not know, had no idea that we were the nearest. Mr Miller has been a good friend in the matter; he has, I suppose,” and here Mr Waldron laughed a little, “made inquiries about us and found all satisfactory. He has removed all Lady Mildred’s prejudices against me, and what I care for most, against my poor grandmother. And,” – Mr Waldron hesitated, – “Amy, it seems impossible, her intention therefore is now to make me the next proprietor of the old place.”

Mrs Waldron was silent for a moment.

“It seems too much,” he said again. “I don’t deserve it,” her husband went on.

This gave her power to speak.

“You not deserve it!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Edward, could a man deserve it more? How you have toiled, how you have kept up your spirits through all! If you said I didn’t deserve it – I have been often so faint-hearted and depressed. I don’t think – I don’t think we shall be spoilt by prosperity; we shall always know so well what a struggling life really is; it will be so delightful to help others. And oh, Edward! Arthur and Noble can go to college, and Ted into the army! That is to say if – will it make any difference at once?”

“Yes; Lady Mildred’s idea is that we should at once, at least very shortly, go to live on the estate, and that I should take charge of things. There is a very good house, at present occupied by one of the farmers, which can easily be made a capital house for us. It is so pretty, I remember it well; how delightful it will be to see you there, Amy! Lady Mildred, of course, will have the big house for her life, but she will be glad to feel free to come and go – the place has been growing a great charge to her. This is the rough sketch of her plan only. Of course there are numberless details to be arranged, and for these she wishes to see me. Then again, in case the General survives her he would have a right to some provision for his life, though it is very certain he would never wish now to be master of Silverthorns – he is quite broken down – and even had he inherited the place, he says he never would have come to live there. But Lady Mildred thinks it right to see him, and she wishes me to see him too. Miller says she is determined that none of the old prejudice against me shall be left; she is not a woman to do things by halves, once she has made up her mind. So, thanks to Miss Meredon, the idea of offering to take Jerry for a time fits in with my going to Cannes. And there we can talk all over.”

Mrs Waldron sat gazing into the fire.

“Edward,” she said, “I feel as if I were dreaming. Tell me – should we not let the poor children know this wonderful news at once?”

“Arthur and Charlotte, perhaps, – they deserve it,” he replied, getting up as he spoke to summon them.

And then again the whole had to be told.

Arthur’s pleasant face literally beamed with delight.

“Oh, papa! – oh, mother!” he exclaimed. “I can’t believe it. It is like a fairy tale. Why did you never tell us before that we were half Osberts?”

“I had meant to tell you before long,” said Mr Waldron; “but I had a horror of raising vague expectations. I knew too well what I had suffered from my false position as a child.”

“Yes,” said Arthur, thoughtfully; “I see.” And then, as a sudden idea struck him, “Fancy its coming after all through the female branch. Papa, the ghost will be laid.”

“Yes,” said Mr Waldron, smiling; “the ghost will be laid.”

“I bet you anything,” – Arthur went on – “I bet you anything, that the first thing old Jerry will say when he quite understands it, will be, ‘I’m so glad for the poor ghost.’”

“And if we never hear anything more of the ghost,” said Charlotte, speaking almost for the first time, “Jerry will be more than ever convinced that he did hear it. Papa,” she added with a little hesitation, “won’t Lady Mildred’s niece, Miss Meredon, be dreadfully disappointed when she knows all this? Perhaps she has heard all the talk about Lady Mildred’s intending to make her her heiress?”

“I hope not,” said Mr Waldron; “she has certainly hitherto shown a most friendly spirit to us. I should be grieved for our good fortune to cause disappointment to any one.”

“And then she must be so rich and grand already, I don’t suppose it would matter much to her,” said Charlotte.

“I don’t know about that: the Meredons are not a rich family by any means,” said Mr Waldron.

“I shall always love that girl,” said Mrs Waldron enthusiastically. “It is her doing about Jerry. Oh, Charlotte, darling! to think that all our poor little plans for sending him abroad are to be so delightfully replaced.”

“May I tell him, mamma?” said Charlotte eagerly; “to-morrow, not to-night, of course! I will take care not to startle him. But it would be so nice. And I will tell him how kind she has been – he is very fond of her,” she added with a slightly reluctant honesty.

“You must be fond of her too, my dear child,” said her father.

“I would like to be, at least I think so,” said Charlotte, and a vision rose before her of Claudia’s sweet, appealing face. “I have been horrid to her, I know,” she added to herself, “but she was rather queer at school.”

Chapter Sixteen